


The Sweetest Perfection

by Sonny



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-22
Updated: 2004-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-13 17:05:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SEQUEL to A GROOVY KIND OF LOVE - A 2nd Look-Into-The-Future Fic - Brian has made a big Life/Death decision... and realizes he's NOT alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who wanted a bit more of an insight into the incredible family that Michael and Brian have created... just to be a *fly* on the wall... again... Your pleas to make sure Brian was alright resonated in my ears, but seriously, I would NEVER kill off Brian after ALL the work Michael's done to make a life with The Great Kinney.

"Papa!" The loud whispering voice invaded his parent's sleeping. The mouth bent toward the slumbering features closest to him.

The incessant shaking made Michael blink his eyes once. He couldn't focus properly. The bedroom was completely dark.

"Papa..." One more shake to the body, laying snuggled under the comforter.

Finally, Michael reached out to latch onto the tiny fingers gripping the shape of his biceps under the flannel sheets. "Ollie... please..." He held his young son's hand in his tight grasp. "Sweetie, I'm up. Stop." His eyes tried to read the bedside clock. He lay back down, sighing heavily at the creepy early morning hour this child chose to slip out of his bed. "Two o'clock, OL!? What's wrong?" In a half-asleep action, he rubbed at Oliver's back, brushing the backs of his fingers over the plump cheek, pulling him close to the mattress.

"Can I sleep with you?" Oliver whispered, beginning to push his little body near his father's, making him scoot back to accommodate. "I brought my own pillow."

Michael nearly squished Brian, who liked to snuggle, cuddling close to his curved back, late at night. He held open the collection of blankets for Oliver to slide right in, facing his chest. His son wanted to burrow in his warm embrace. Michael forgave the weird craving since he'd been gone for almost a month, from home.

Brian grumbled, slightly, rolling over to his side of the king-sized bed, facing away.

Michael didn't know if he liked losing Brian's warmth on his back, while gaining his son's sweet, gentle nuzzle. "Are you okay?" Oliver nodded, resting his head on Michael's chest. "Can't sleep?" He placed his cheek on top of Oliver's raven curls, inhaling his soft baby scent.

"Brian let me sleep with him, when you were gone. Right here. In your spot." The small fingers tenderly petted over his father's strong pulsating heart.

Michael wrapped his arms, secure, about his precious younger son. He arranged all the sheets and covers over their joined bodies. "Oh." He was gonna take that as a good excuse.

"He's an addict, Michael. Like the rest of us. Leave it alone." Brian could still hear the low timbered chatting. "I don't mind an extra warm body. Go to sleep. Got a busy day tomorrow."

Michael pressed a gentle kiss to Oliver's silky curls. "You heard your Dad." He closed his eyes as best as he could shut them, without Brian near.

After a few minutes, all three men settled down to quiet.

The dim hallway light flashed through the master bedroom.

"Daddy?! Dad!?" A second whispered voice spoke up. A shadow stepped cautiously to the bed, hanging onto the thick bedpost.

Michael raised his torso up. His eyes blinked once again, to focus on the fuzzy image. "Hayley? Honey...?"

"Daddy..." Hayley sniffed once, showing she had been privately crying in her bedroom. "Can I...?"

"Jesus H. Christ!" Brian tugged a pillow from under his head to cover his face.

Both Brian and Michael moved further apart, giving Hayley a place to lay down.

When Hayley was younger they used to allow her to sleep between them. Their strong, solid bodies keeping her safe and sound on the high mattress.

Hayley couldn't help the grin that slipped out, despite the tears she was shedding as she crawled over the crumpled linen. On her hands and knees, she approached Oliver and her father, first. She respectively bussed their exposed, ruddy cheeks. "G'night." As she pulled the layers of blankets over her cool body, in a t-shirt and drawstring sweats, Hayley shuffled over toward Brian. She tenderly wrapped one arm around his trim waist, feeling him start in fright at her touch. She tucked her face at the vulnerable nape, kissing the delicate skin and inhaling his familiar, soothing scent.

Removing the pillow, Brian let his eyes droop open, momentarily, as he inhaled a deep breath of feeling. The overwhelming sense of love and adoration he felt for Hayley, and from her, infiltrated his weary, weak body. He reached behind him to touch her face, brush at a few strands of her loose silky hair. " `Night, Hay-bear." He nearly choked on his words as he brought up her hand to kiss her fingers.

Hayley moved to rest her chin on the sharp jutting bone of Brian's shoulder. "Are you scared?"

Brian closed his eyes, not sure whether to be honest or ignore the silent, interested inquiry. Sometimes he was exhausted by the *front* he felt he needed to show to his family. Like seeing him lose composure, or unable to handle a difficult situation, was gonna shed a bad light on his character. "Yes." He sniffed out a morbid laugh. "Is that why you're crying?" He wanted her to be just as honest with him.

Hayley snickered at Brian's brutal truthfulness. She didn't think it made him cowardly. Actually, she thought he appeared more human when life seemed to fluster him. "I love you, Dad. I always will. You're my *guy*. You know that! The one I will constantly hold all other men in my life in comparison to."

"Lord, kid! Your father's more suited for that job. I'm only pretty window dressing."

"Please, Dad! You're so much more to us kids, then what you think. You're our hero. Our knight in slightly, rusty, kinked armor. It's what we adore most about you."

Brian turned his face into the plush pillow. His nerves were already shot. He didn't need the tears to surface, as well. He opened his mouth to say something, but another voice spoke his turn.

"She's right, Brian." Michael's voice filled the stunted silence.

Hayley chuckled as she felt Brian's flinch at having been caught in a sappy, sentimental moment.

"Shit! You heard that?! Thought you were asleep!" Brian felt the flush invade his body, he let out a nervous laugh.

"Ollie's out. I seem to have absorbed his insomnia." Michael reached behind him to pat his daughter's hip. "Are you okay, honey?" He tried to flip over on his back, but Oliver had a good hold of him.

"Fine, Daddy." Hayley burrowed into Brian's warmth.

"We're fucked! Ow!" Hayley pinched Brian's biceps, like she used to do when she was younger and he swore inappropriately. Brian grumbled as he threaded his fingers with Hayley's. His thumb soothed over her soft skin. "None of us are ever gonna fall asleep."

A gentle knock sounded on the open wooden paneling of the master bedroom door.

"Good evening, Mi Familia!" The usually happy, good-natured voice broke through the few seconds of quiet.

"Gus!?" Michael couldn't believe the dumb luck. "Shush!"

What was going on with this night and the kids?

"Good morning, is more like it." Brian mumbled with his eyes closing.  
The smile was beginning to grow on his lips. The bed was gonna get crowded soon. Good thing it was a king-size.

"The one and only!" Gus toed off his shiney shoes, shucking off his suit jacket. He came around the bed post toward his father's seemingly slumbering form. "Pop?" He reached out to cup the cheek, his fingers barely making contact on the skin. He hiccuped once, feeling the kickback taste of some shitty alcohol.

Brian shot back slightly, smacking into Hayley. "My Gawd! You smell like a fuckin' brewery! Did you spill and fall face first in your beer?!" Then he realized something. "You didn't drive like this, did you?!"

"Bates... uh, Frances..." Gus shook his head to clear the haze away. "Wait! Frankie. She hates drinking. She drove me home. Isn't she sweet? Kind? So gentle... and caring..." He went on without completing his thought.

Brian held a hand over his nose. His stomach was already queasy. "I wouldn't know, Gus. I hardly know the girl."

"The date went perfect, Pop! She loves me..."

"Happy for you, son." Brian was trying to avoid Gus' touch as he caught the flaying hand. "Get into the bathroom, undress and brush your goddamn teeth!"

"Pop...*hic*... I'm tryin' ta' tell ya'... *hic*... how the night went. Serious... *hic*..." Gus tried to ease himself at his father's beside, but slipped and plopped onto the floor. "Whoopsie!" He began to giggle like a little boy.

Brian tugged on Hayley's hand, trying to hold back the desire to chuckle at his oldest son's imbalance with alcohol. Michael was the same way. "Hayley, go help your brother into the bathroom." He was trying to pull her over his prone body.

Hayley sighed at having to be responsible for her older brother. "Can't his *cloud* carry him the rest of the way? He's doing such a bang up job right now." She bit back in true Kinney/Novotny sarcasm.

Gus was beginning to sing off-key, sinking lower to the floor.

"Oh! No way!" Hayley jumped up, tapping her father's hip. "Come on! Four hands are better than two. Gus will overpower me, like a dead weight."

Michael would have loved to have helped, but Oliver was suctioned well to his body. He showed his daughter how the maneuver wasn't gonna be easy, or painless.

Hayley climbed off the bed. "Okay, Daddy." She had a good hold of Oliver, behind him. "On the count of three. One... two..." She pulled back on *three*, the tight grip was loosened swiftly, without disturbance. All that happened was Oliver shuffling into cocooning into his own pillow and body. "Whew! Okay... come on." She held out her hand for Michael to grab, tugging him off the bed.

Michael wandered around the end of the bed to come around and found Gus slumped at Brian's side. "What in the world is he singing?" He couldn't define the lyrics.

Brian was raising from his torso, still feeling the weariness struggle through his body. "Sounds like Easy Listening standards. Like Frank Sinatra or Dean Martin."

Michael moved to hover over Gus, planting his bare feet on either side of the bent body. He leaned over, holding out his hands. "Grab onto me, son. I'll help you up."

Gus swiveled his head, exaggerating the move. "Hey, Michael." That dazzling, charming Kinney smile flourished without a thought to it's disarming power.

"Hey, Gus!" Michael knew the best way to make a drunk cooperate was to *play* along with anything they said or did. "I hear your date went well. Come on... give me your hands."

The hands could barely reach far enough in the air. "Yeah! She's awesome! So... so... so... *hic*... beautiful! Why didn' I see it, afore? BE-fore!"

Hayley stared down at her inebriated brother. "Good God! Is this what being *in love* makes you do to yourself?" She moved to stand behind her father, ready to discover where she was needed.

Brian bit his lip, coming out from under the blankets. "Hayley, he was probably nervous. Had too much to drink with dinner. Forgot he couldn't handle the load. He just realized he's in love with his best friend... cut him some slack." He reached over to smack his son awake. "Gus! Give Michael your hands! He's gonna take you to the bathroom."

Gus furrowed his brow. "Why? Do I need to go?" Then his squinting eyes widened. "I didn't pee my pants, did I?" Gus padded down his groin area, checking for wetness. "Shit! These aren't even my pants."

Hayley tried to stifle her laughter, covering her mouth with her hand. Michael was unable to keep a straight face, either. Father and daughter shared *look* of wonder as the same thought entered their minds.

Michael was the one who asked the million dollar question. "Whose pants are they, Gus?"

Brian kept biting his top lip, knowing it wasn't kind to laugh at his lush of a son, even if it was adorable. "They're mine. Everything he's wearing is mine. Well... *was* mine, I should say. I let him borrow them." Feeling a one time ounce of strength left in him, Brian situated his legs on either side of Gus' body. He reached down to help his son up with Michael and Hayley's help. He got slightly dizzy from the rush. "Please, take him away!" Brian plopped down onto the mattress.

"Pop... love you..." Gus had an arm around Hayley and Michael's necks. "I love you two... too. Tu-tu." He did a *ballet* movement worthy of a tu-tu. He tried to lean down, pressing kisses to the faces near him, but the stench on him was quite sickening. "Whoa!" Gus was beginning to find gravity again. "I think... *hic*... I think..."

From the pasty white look of Gus' face, Michael knew what was about to happen. "Quick! He's gonna be sick!"

They raced him into the bathroom in time to reach the toilet.

Hayley knew this wasn't a good sound for Brian to hear. She closed the door with her foot. She and her father worked Gus down to kneel on the tiny carpet, in front of the toilet.

Michael motioned for Hayley to release her brother. He continued to sooth and mumble endearments over the bowed head over the rim. "That's it. Let it all out. You're okay." He brushed back the sweaty hair, combing through the long locks at the back of Gus' head. "We're right here, son."

"I'm sorry... Michael." Gus softly sobbed as he emptied his stomach contents into the bowl. He dry heaved a few more times before he sat back on his heels. His hand motioned for the toilet paper to blow his nose. "Oh, Christ! I should know better! I feel miserable."

Michael took a seat on the edge of the bathtub. "We still love you, Gus. It's okay to slip up. Your father wasn't any better than you, in the aftermath of drinking. And neither am I. In fact, one toke of pot and I'm a basket case." He realized what he'd said too late. "That still doesn't mean it's good enough for you kids to try. Drugs are bad. Very bad. Bad drugs." He held out that *parental* index finger. "Learn some lessons from our mistakes."

Gus and Hayley shared a *look* of knowledge. They knew what their parents had done before, during and after they were born.

Gus took the extra toilet paper Hayley handed over to him. "Thanks, sis."

"So... did she declare it, Gus?" Hayley crossed her arms over her bosom, foot near to tapping.

Gus raised a curious brow to Hayley. "Declare what?"

"Freedom from Germany! Christ, you said she loved you. Did she say it?"

"No." Gus shook his head to why Hayley would get a crazy idea like that. Declaring love on a first *date* date wasn't Bates' style. He then thought about it, looking over at Michael. "Did I say something? Earlier?"

Michael averted his eyes to rewind back a few minutes ago. "You did mention, kind of emphatically, that you knew she loved you." He let out a lighthearted chuckle as he watched a thoroughly embarrassed Gus slink against the bathroom wall. "No details, though. You're still slightly safe."

Gus rolled his aching shoulders, sniffing at the odor on him. "Man! I need a shower!"

"Need some help?" Michael stood up from his perch on the tub.

"Would you mind?" Gus lifted his brow in hopefulness. "I'm still kind of wobbly." He held out his hand for Michael to take in his own.

"No problem." Michael shrugged as he went about gathering a towel or two from the linen closet.

"This..." Hayley opened the door again to back out of the room. "... is my cue to leave." She waved goodbye to them. She left Gus and her father to shower in the bathroom.

Brian was seated on the side of the bed, anticipating some new information. "How is he?"

Hayley stepped up to Brian, arms remaining crossed. "Ten pounds lighter... and in L-O-V-E."

Brian chuckled deeply, causing his lungs to make him cough. "He's in for a long ride. I wouldn't wish it on him." He saw Hayley grimace at even the thought of caring for the opposite sex at her age. "Leave him be, Hayley. It's kind of..."

"Nauseating? Sickening? My older, *cool* brother is turning out to be a complete cheesehead, Dad. I'm telling you the Myth of Kinney is slowly disappearing. Who will be left to proudly carry on the selfish, sarcastic, snarky namesake?"

"Oliver." Brian gestured to the dark angelic form sleeping behind him.

"Dad, please. Ollie's about as conniving and devious as a hamster."

"The quiet, shy ones are the ones to be wary of. I used to believe how innocent and naive Michael was... and how wrong I was." Brian laughed so hard his lungs began to ache as he watched Hayley cover her eyes. He knew it was hard for her to see her father in any other way. "Stop it. You're killin' me." He closed his eyes to the tightening in his lungs. "Thank You."

Hayley brushed back the moist locks from Brian's forehead as she walked up to him. "For what?"

Brian tilted his head back to look up into Hayley's eyes. "For... everything. I may be your *guy*, like you say, but you, Hayley, you've been to me just what your name says."

"Hayley?"

Brian snickered, shaking his head. "No, honey. Your middle name,... *Grace*. You've been my saving grace in all things pertaining to me getting older and maturing. In helping me secure my side with your father. When Michael isn't aware or looking, you can cover my ass with the best of them. You make me look like I'm great at what comes easily to others." His brow furrowed and he became serious. "Did you ever think you'd be good at PR work? What are your intentions for college?" He shamefully bowed his head, wiping at his eyes. "Shit! I don't even know what you like to do in school."

Hayley took a space beside Brian, leaning her body on him. "Why do you wanna know all this at two in the morning?"

"Because... time passes and sometimes we lose sight of things. I don't want to miss anymore of your life than what I'm able to be aware of." Brian moved his arm around to hold Hayley close.

"Stop!" The small voice from the doorway interrupted the quiet discussion. "Just... stop it..."

Hayley quickly bounced up from her seating. "Erica, not now." She was prepared to defend Brian.

"When, Lee, huh? When he's dead and buried? Gone for good and we have only tender memories to help us deal with everything?" Erica knew she sounded angry, now, but she knew how close to tears she was. She didn't like not knowing her father wouldn't be around long enough to possibly see her go on in her life, for a really long time.

"Erica!" Hayley felt like reprimanding her sister. "Don't talk like that!"

Brian reached out to cover Hayley's hands that she was wringing together. "Look, it's okay. I'd rather she be honest with me then hiding in her room. I don't want her to be too scared to speak to me. Let her say what she wants, and needs, to get out."

"You don't need to baby me, Dad. I can take care of myself." Erica prowled around the bedroom. She was coming around the side her father and Hayley were at. She was still upset by all that had gone on since Michael had come back home.

Brian knew there were times he couldn't win an argument with his daughter. Now, he was willing to let her be right. "I'm sorry if it seems that way, but it was for your own good. You wouldn't have understood."

"Oh... like I'm doing so well with it right now." Erica bit out sarcastically, in true Kinney form.

Brian wished Erica didn't try so hard to be tough. "I guess there's

never a good time..." He had wanted his own daughter to be more like Hayley or Gus at least.

Erica snickered, leaning on the end bed post. "A good time to what? Tell me your almost at Death's Door?"

The bathroom door opened.

Michael popped his head out. "Can someone get us some clothes for Gus to wear?" There was mumbling behind him from inside the shower. "Gus says he'll take anything except a nightgown... and panties... especially thongs."

The door closed on stilted laughter around the room.

Erica didn't want to laugh, but sometimes Gus cracked her up, hysterically. She still wanted to hang on to her anger with her father.

Hayley decided she'd leave the room to dig through Gus' bags. She left Brian and Erica alone together, for only a few minutes. They definitely needed to talk.

Brian waited as Hayley close the door once she exited. "It's okay to hate me, Erica. I'll still love you. No matter what."

Erica pushed off the bed post, arms crossed like Hayley. "I don't hate you, Dad. I just... I don't understand sometimes. Why you do certain things... like you're still by yourself. You tend to make Michael feel like he doesn't exist and us kids like... well, there are times where we wonder if you really wanna be here, in this house, with us."

Brian closed his eyes at his own stupidity. Yes, he had made mistakes and still kept making them, but it was difficult to bring people in. Even after all these years. "There is nothing in my life right now that I have regretted doing. There is no place I would rather be."

"Even if you die?" Erica had been thinking this one fact over and over in her head. "Like Grandpa Kinney did?"

Brian bowed his head, ashamed. "Who told you about him?"

Erica scraped her toe on the carpet. "Mom and Mel. They talked about him a few weeks ago. I know they didn't mean for me to hear, but it was obvious they were talking about you and Grandpa. How similar your... uh, the cancers were and stuff." She strolled closer, finding a place to sit, far away from her father.

"With one difference, Erica."

"Being what?" Erica quirked her head in curiosity.

Brian scooted near, his arm stretched out on the mattress and bedcovers. "I'm fighting this disease with everything I've got. I'm taking the pills. I'm agreeing to the chemo and the radiation treatments. I'm having all the surgeries my body is able to take in order to biopsy the tumors. Whatever I have to do to be here for all of you."

"Michael, especially, right?" Erica asked, wanting nothing but the truth from her father. She knew she could get him to be honest with her. "It's okay if you want to live for him, more than us. I won't hate him for it, either."

Brian had to avert his head, closing his eyes to the heartache he was feeling.

Erica knew she had struck too close to her father's heart for him to not hurt her. She continued on asking her questions. "Why? Why do you want to do this... at all? Excluding Michael... even us, maybe... shouldn't you want to live for yourself?"

Brian sighed, knowing he couldn't dodge the issue at hand. "All of you... Gus, Hayley, you and Oliver... you're all a part of me. Michael has been... everything to me since I was fourteen. I don't know any other way to be. Surviving this disease will make you all happy... to see me, to be with me... which makes me happy."

Erica tried not to let her father see her cry. She shook her head, shutting her lids. "Can't be that easy. Nothin's ever that easy." She looked away, unable to gaze into his eyes as he lifted his head to her. "Are you saying that what you put yourself through... the medicine that makes you sick, the tiredness and complete exhaustion  
that overwhelms you after treatments, the days you're just so frustrated at being weak... that THIS is all worth the pain? The struggles I see you go through simply to get out of bed some mornings... how does the worth equal out?"

"Why does it worry you so, how much I suffer?" Brian was curious to Erica's thinking. She was quite a resourceful, sensitive child. Always thinking about things in her head.

"Me, Daddy. I make your life a livin' nightmare, but you still manage to take an interest in me. I've barely done anything for you. And you still..." Erica couldn't stop the tears from falling any longer. "... here you sit... practically dead bone tired and you try to function as best you can, still talking to me. I haven't really done anything to make you like me lately."

Brian had to let out a smirk. "I understand you more than you think. We find hidden strengths in ourselves, Erica, when we least expect it. Especially when we have a constant source of love in our lives. We can do some crazy shit for those we care about."

Erica nodded her head. "I'm finding that out. I didn't know what an amazing man you are until recently. I guess I'm feeling a little..."

"Guilty?"

Erica bobbed her head in agreement. "And a bit disturbed by how selfish I am. I know I've been taught to act better toward complete strangers. Why couldn't I find a shred of decency for my own father? What kind of daughter does that make me?" She wiped at her eyes.

Brian silently held out his hand toward Erica. Once he had her fingers in his grip, he pulled her closer, letting go of her hand. "Whatever happened before this moment is all over and done. Things we may have said to hurt each other forgotten. Only one thing remains here... and that's who we are to one another and who we want to be with each other. I may be your father, but that doesn't make me any less or better than you. The same goes for you. I'm not perfect. I will always make mistakes, even when I'm old and gray... gray-er." He enjoyed the cute smile he got out of Erica at his correction. "I'm not gonna sit here and pretend that we can be like every other father and daughter out there. It's gonna take some time for us to both heal. I'm still not certain I know what I'm doing half the time raising you kids, but I try damn hard making the effort." He held out a hand for Erica to take. "Can I get a handshake in agreement that you'll meet me halfway? Fifty-Fifty?"

Erica shook her head in doubt. She didn't think this was very fair. Her father was going through so much more than he was making it seem. "You're cutting me too much slack, Dad. You deserve so much better than what I've given you."

"That's family, honey." Brian still kept his hand out for the handshake he was expecting. "That's what making sacrifices is all about. The love you feel for another person should equal what you give to them in kind."

Erica swallowed with difficulty as she began to comprehend exactly what her father was saying. What he was vocalizing sounded a lot like what was between him and Michael. "Then you must love me a whole helluva lot!"

Brian couldn't look Erica in the face. He just nodded his head, his eyes on his own hand in the air. "That I do, kid. That I do."

"Oh, Daddy!" Erica moved her father's hand out of her way and crawled across the mattress to embrace him as hard as she could. She felt the strong arms encircle her, helping her to situate herself across his lap. She buried her face in the warm curve of neck and shoulder. She felt the caress over her head and the tender kiss to her skin. "I'm so scared for you. For tomorrow. I know it's simple surgery. In and out in one day, but... I don't want you to die. Not before you get to see me play the All-Stars game."

Brian sniffed his own tears away, letting them get lost in Erica's hair. As she lifted her head, he tentatively reached over to wipe away tears. "I'm not gonna die, sweetie. Not until there isn't anymore breath and no fight left in me. Besides, Michael's gonna keep me healthy. We made a pinky promise the other day to never leave one another's side. And you know how serious a *pinky* promise can be, don't you?"

Erica backed up in her father's arms, holding out her left pinky. "Swear with me, Dad." She whispered, wiping at her wet face.

"Swear what?" Brian let a sheepish smile out as he hooked a pinky with Erica. He shut his eyes when he felt her other hand reach out to wipe his tears away, kissing his temples.

Closing her eyes, Erica began to make a random vow of something meaningful. "Well... let's agree to take a minute each day to compliment one another." Their pinkies shook on it. "And let's promise that maybe, not quite once a day, we tell each other something neither of us knows about ourselves." There was another solid *pinky* shake on the promise. "And I promise to show you, as much as I can how glad I am to be your daughter and happy that you are my father. That I do love you, more than you think." She opened her eyes to discover the new set of tears cascading down her father's cheeks. He wasn't ashamed of showing that emotion to her. "Oh, Daddy!" It was her downfall. To see him let loose with his feelings. Just didn't seem right for him to  
sob like this. She plastered her hands over his spiky-hair, Lifting herself in his lap and drawing him to her chest and squeezing him as tightly as she could. "I do, you know. Love you. Mommy says you and I are too alike to get along, but something tells me... it can be so much better than before. We're both changing, huh?"

Brian found himself lost in his daughter's embrace. Erica wasn't usually the one to give comfort. That was Hayley's job, or Michael's. He actually found that he liked Erica's no-holds barred talking. He knew where he stood with her. That her emotions weren't fake or trite. He wouldn't be *babied*, but yet he would, if she felt like he deserved it. "Yeah. It's a bitch to grow up. I don't envy you or the rest of the kids. Childhood isn't very easy or forgiving."

"From the looks of things... neither is being an adult." Erica pulled away to look down at her father's face into those hazel eyes she adored.

Brian gave his daughter a soft smile, winking up at her. Without having to ask, he puckered his lips and Erica bent to lightly kissed them. "Love you, too."

Hayley made some random noises from the doorway as she came in. "I hope Gus doesn't mind what I chose for him." She shook out each article of clothing. "I looked through his bags, but I'm sure I got some underwear." She looked up in time to catch the tail end of Erica slipping off Brian's lap, meagerly sitting at his right side on the bed. She bit at her lip to hide the sweet smile at father and daughter finally having their moment to chat.

Brian kept an arm about Erica's waist, drawing her to his side. She leaned into his right biceps, resting her cheek on his shoulder. "Let me see." Hayley wandered over to display each item for perusal. "Yeah. You did good, honey."

"Cool." Hayley jogged up to the door. She knocked once. "Hey! I got the *stuff*."

The door opened, barely, and only Michael's arm came through, palm out to receive the clothes. "Thanks. We'll be out in a second."

The door was slammed again, nearly bopping Hayley in the nose.

"Ow! You're welcome!" Hayley stepped back to wander over toward Brian and Erica. They were quiet but contemplative with each other. She found it odd that they were being so tender and gentle with one another. Erica's fingers were combing through Brian's spikes, while Brian's hand around Erica's waist rubbed a pattern over her clothes. "Everything okay?" She took her old spot sitting next to Brian on his left, feeling the mattress sink them to mesh arms.

"Everything is perfect." Brian wrapped his other arm around Hayley, drawing her close to press a kiss to her temple.

Hayley patted Brian's thigh, loving the warmth she always felt from him. "Can I ask something, Dad?"

"What?"

"Do we have to go to school tomorrow?"

Erica sank further into her father's side, resting her cheek on his shoulder blade. "Yeah, Daddy. I don't think I could concentrate, worrying about you." She brought up her left hand to use her five fingertips to soothe a pattern over the arched back.

Hayley covered her face, beginning to cry softly. "Look at me now. I've been this way for days. I find myself crying at the just thought." She uncovered her face to turn her eyes to Brian's. "I know you'll be fine. You've come home after every surgery, healthy and stronger, but..."

Squeezing his daughters close in his arms, Brian sighed heavily. "If I was selfish, I'd want you guys with me. But Michael doesn't want any of you kids to make a big deal out of this. After the surgery, they want me to go through a series of radiation and chemo treatments that will eat up the rest of the day. I don't know if we should disturb your routines like that."

Erica thought about her plans around that time, something that had slipped her mind. "I do have an away basketball game with Kenton Hills tomorrow night. Coach wants us at an early practice before we go."

Hayley nodded her head. "There's a possibility that my Chem class pop quiz will be tomorrow. And Mrs. Shaley claims that this will be the last few classes she'll allow us to prepare for our presentations." Hayley knew there was no easy way to get out of going to school.

The girls understood. Still wasn't fair. Gus was gonna be there and Oliver only had a half-day first grade tomorrow.

Erica looked over at her usually stable, older sister. Lord, if Hayley couldn't handle a day of school, Erica knew she was gonna be an emotional wreck. "I wanna be there so bad, Daddy." She wrapped herself around him, shutting her eyes tight.

Hayley cuddled closer to Brian's side. "Me, too. Me, too."

There was still no movement coming out of the bathroom.

Brian tried to clean up his appearance, shaking hands wiping at his eyes. He could only look this vulnerable with his daughters. Maybe Michael, too. Unfortunately Gus and Oliver had seen snippets and bits of this side of him these last few months. "What in the hell is Michael doing with Gus?!?"

As Hayley stood to compose herself and walk over to the bathroom door, it creaked open. She stopped and sat back down again.

Michael walked out with a shit-eatin' grin on his face. "Sorry we took so long. Gus needed some extra grooming."

Brian squinted his eyes, wondering what the hell Michael could have done. "You didn't help him put on make up again?"

Hayley and Erica's eyes widened in shock.

Hayley tried to not crack up laughing. "When was this?"

Michael rolled his eyes, waving his hand in the air. "Ages ago. Gus got into Grandma Debbie's purse... it was a travesty of epic proportions."

Brian recalled that scary moment of the past. "Yeah... and it wasn't even his shade. Clashed with his Pjs."

Erica put a hand to her lips to stop the snickering. "Blush, too?"

Michael turned his head, slightly, recalling an interesting fact. "The eyeliner was the clincher. He shaped his eyes really well. I was impressed."

Gus flipped the light switch off as he exited the bathroom. "All in the coordination!"

A collective gasp filled the room. What in the world had Michael and Gus done?!

 

 **~~TBC...**   



	2. Chapter 2

Hayley sat in complete amazement. "Gus, you look..." 

Gus ran his fingers through his shortened locks, sending spikes in trials along his head. He was clean shaven, as well. "Goofy? I told you, Michael..."

Hayley stood up from the bed. "Wait! Let me finish! You look like Brian. I mean, what he looked like years ago. It's uncanny." she strolled over to look closer for her own well-being.

Erica pulled away from her father to step near, not believing what she was seeing, either. "I loved your long hair. It gave you your own *look*, Gus, but man... dude... I have to say this haircut is so much more sexy."

"Thanks." Gus blushed by his two sister's adoring attention. "Think Bates will like it?"

Erica's eyes blanched. "A motorcycle chick usually likes longer hair on her man, but I'm gonna go with my gut here... you look freakin' HOT!" She looked over at Hayley to get an agreement, elbowing her side.

"What?! Oh, yeah, totally, Gus! She's gonna flip. If she's not already in love with you." Hayley had to keep her jaw from falling on the floor.

Gus put his hands over his ears. "Okay. Okay. I got it. No more. Please." His hands went to cover his face.

Michael moved to wrap an arm about Gus' waist. "His head's pounding a bit. Forgive him."

Brian cleared his throat, standing to his tall height. He pushed back the covers of the king-sized bed. "Okay, everyone..." He jutted his thumb toward the bed. "... get in..."

Surprisingly, Oliver never moved a muscle through all the background noise. Only when Michael had come back to cuddle him close.

So the bed began to slowly fill with extra warm bodies. Oliver, then Michael, then Gus, then Hayley, then Brian and lastly Erica. The two parents were sandwiched by each kid. Michael had the boys, Brian had his girls. The layers of covers were pulled over all the cold, shivering legs and torsos.

No one spoke for a few minutes as each body began to settle in their respective spots.

"This... is good." Gus rolled onto his back, bumping into Hayley.

"What, Gus?" Michael asked in the air, tugging Oliver closer.

"What we have here. Between us. This is how it should be, right? With family?" Gus' hand fell back to pat Hayley's hip bone.

"Some don't get that luxury, Gus." Hayley chimed in rubbing Brian's biceps. She knew a bit of his childhood background. "I've always felt that us kids had it better than most."

"Mom's always told us that we're a special family. Double fathers and double mothers." Erica chimed in her own thoughts.

"Double the... luuuvvv..." Gus chuckled at his own warped humor. He had made his voice sound like a soul/hip-hop/R&B disc jockey.

A collective giggle-fest began.

Erica lifted up her torso to look over all the heads in the bed. "Know what the cool thing is about us?"

"What?" Gus, Hayley and Michael all asked in wonder.

Brian looked up at his daughter's face, knowing she would say something profound. He was learning that she had quite a sharp mind attached to her shoulders.

"Most importantly, though we may be family... we're best friends, too. I've discovered that's very important to have in any relationship. `I love you, but I don't like you' what kind of bullsh-..." Brian recovered the swear word in his hand. Erica winked down at him in thankfulness. "... is that?! `I may be related to you, but I wish you didn't live here?'. Too many of my classmates can't even stand their siblings. I'm proud to say that even given a choice, if I met any of you on the street... I think I'd like you and we'd get along."

Both Brian and Michael were sheepishly smiling, knowing that these children had been born because they were all wanted, loved because they were complete joys at birth. None of them asked to be here, but four people had made a decision to have them... and this... is who they were becoming.

Michael cleared his voice of the lump in his throat. He love and adored every single one of his children, but Brian was his heart. He was proud to be in the center of this family. "Your father and I did the best we could. We're still learning."

Erica nodded, settling her head near her father's on the pillow. "Well... I, for one, am convinced you two are geniuses when it comes to parenting." She kissed her father's eyelids as he snuggled into her arms.

Gus cleared his own throat.

Hayley covered her eyes and groaned. "Oh, man!" She wished she had an extra hand to cover her ears. Now they surely wouldn't get ANY sleep.

The perpetual musician at heart, Gus was about display his hidden talents. Nobody ever told him the *talent* he had wasn't any good.

********************************************  
 **"And I...  
Never thought I'd feel this way...  
And as far as I'm concerned...  
I'm glad I got the chance to say...  
That I do believe I love you..."**  
*********************************************

Gus moved about the bed to kiss every cheek he could reach. It was like that move he used to do in church when the priest would ask to turn to the fellow parishioners, shake their hands and say, "Peace Be With You."

Brian shut his eyes in complete hysterical laughter. "Oh... my Gawd!"

Erica and Gus did a sloppy, sappy duet.

**************************************  
 _"And if...  
I should ever go away...  
Well, then close your eyes and try...  
To feel the way we do today...  
And then if you can remember..."_  
**************************************

Michael was giggling in his pillow, knowing these lyrics well. Tears of laughter were streaming down his face. This was a bed full of goofballs, just like he and Brian had been at their ages.

All three children, excluding Oliver, began to sing, somewhat, in harmony.

**************************************  
 _"Keep smiling, keep shining...  
Knowing you can always count on me...  
For sure...  
That's what friends are for...  
For good times and bad times...  
I'll be on your side forever more...  
That's what friends are for..."_  
**************************************

Feeling left out, Michael settled his body, staring up at the ceiling. He began with a trident effort.

**************************************  
 _"Well you came and opened me...  
And now there's so much more I see...  
And so, by the way, I thank you."_  
**************************************

Gus was impressed by Michael's knowledge, so he joined in on the next lyrics.

***************************************  
 _"And then...  
For the times when we're apart...  
Well, then close your eyes and know...  
These words are coming from my heart...  
And then if you can remember..."_  
****************************************

This time everyone was included. Erica could even see her father's lips moving under the hand over his face.

*************************************  
 _"Keep smiling, keep shining...  
Knowing you can always count on me...  
For sure...  
That's what friends are for...  
In good times and bad times...  
I'll be on your side forever more...  
That's what friends are for...**_  
**************************************

It was a combination of singing and laughing, tears and ringing ears.

No one could carry a tune separately, but together they sounded about as good as when the Brady Bunch sang together.

Once the song was complete and the laughter was dying to a hum, Oliver climbed over his father and ventured in between the tiny space between Hayley and Gus in the center of the bed.

The whole family scooted back a bit to allow the little child room to lay down. Everyone faced in toward the center.

Erica spooned behind Brian, Brian spooned behind Hayley, Hayley faced Oliver and then Oliver lay on his back. Gus lay on his right side with Michael curled at his back.

"We... are so... pathetic..." Oliver chimed in once there was silence enough to make another upheaval of sound.

Brian was the first to let loose the loudest snicker, then the rest of them followed.

Michael was amazed by what each child took away from he and Brian's relationship.

Chocolate eyes gazed across the bed at hazel ones, lost in the moment of pure love and tenderness. The years together, through all the hard work and pain, hadn't hardened their spirits or deadened their passion for one other and the people they allowed into their lives.

Curling his biceps under his head, Brian gazed adoringly at Michael as he brushed through Hayley's silk raven locks. "I love you." He mouthed only for Michael to catch.

"I love you more." Michael mouthed in kind, challenging Brian to a *love duel*.

Brian covered Hayley's eyes as he leaned over her. "I love you... times infinity."

Gus opened his eyes. "Uh, oh... it's on!" He liked these *love* challenges. He lay somewhat on his back, staring up at Michael, since it was his turn.

Michael raised up over Gus' back. "I love you, PLUS infinity... times two."

Brian should have thrown in his towel, but Erica rolled his shoulders as if he was a boxer preparing to enter the ring and face his opponent. "Come on, Dad. I know you can do better."

"I love you times infinity, times two and... forever..."

"Good one!"

"Whoo-Hoo! Can I open my eyes, Dad?!"

Brian removed his hand over Hayley's eyes. "Sorry, honey."

Gus leaned back to whisper into Michael's ear.

Michael had the winning answer. He knew it. "I love you, times infinity, times two, forever... and beyond."

"Ohhh!" Erica and Hayley groaned at the loss.

Oliver lost himself in giggles.

"Busted!" Gus cheered for Michael. He high-fived Michael proudly. "My man!"

Brian held up his hand in defeat. "I concede the loss." He quirked up one eyebrow in wonderment. "What's the prize?"

Under his dark lashes, Michael thought seriously about what he REALLY wanted, but not with everyone in their bed. "A kiss. From you."

Hayley covered Oliver's eyes as she commented her approval. "Awww... that's so sweet."

Gus and Erica cheered on. "Woo, Woo, Woo..."

Brian and Michael tried to reach one another over the bodies, along the pillows at their headboard. Their lips managed to touch, but both wanted so much more to happen. They had to think of who was watching.

The second their mouths locked, Gus had a few words ready, no matter how heavily they kissed over him. "Get a room!"

Brian turned hazel eyes to his son. "This IS our room!"

Michael nodded his own similar thought. "And our bed, too!"

Gus was chuckling at their pretend frustration. "But you love us... remember? Your precious bundles of joy? Hellooo?" He waved shyly from under the blankets.

Like always, the laughter far outweighed any ounce of sadness, anger or frustration.

Everyone moved to settle back into their spaces.

Once the quiet returned, Oliver thought of something else. "Hey... did anyone set the alarm?"

A collective groan circled the bed.

This was gonna be a very looong night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael and Hayley tried to distract everyone to the importance of this morning by making breakfast. The array of food didn't match the space left in the tummies around the table.

Michael took a minute to stand back, admiring his little family in the old area that once used to be his mother's kitchen. His childhood home remodeled to become the new, improved house that would withstand many more generations of Kinneys and Novotnys. Long after he and Brian were gone. He was supposed to be watching the sausages in the frying pan, flipping the bacon once it was cooked on one side. He couldn't help noticing the ways each person was taking the time to touch one another on the shoulder, press kisses to temples and foreheads, saying *please* and *thank you*s without being prompted.

Brian sat at the head of the dinner table, Gus to his right and an empty seat to his left that would hold Hayley. She spent more time cooking the meals than eating them. She was just like Debbie, except she knew when to back off, unlike her Grandma.

Erica was seated next to her little brother, helping him butter a slice of toast, then softly asking him if he wanted a certain kind of jelly. Oliver nodded his head at every suggestion. Erica didn't fluster with anger, she just snickered, ruffling her fingers through those soft baby curls of hair. Most sisters would find that annoying NOT being given a straight answer, bot Erica.

Michael noticed Brian watching the children interact. The quiet, shy smile was plastered on his lips as he gazed at each child in a loving manner.

Because of the day surgery he was having today, Brian hadn't had anything to eat or drink since midnight last evening. That was fine, because his stomach was in knots anyway

A popping sound told Michael the bacon needed flipping, the sausage links needed to be rolled over. He went back to paying attention to the cooking food.

Hayley walked up to her father, bumping her hip with his. "You alright, Dad?"

"Yeah, I'm good, but I think I'm having second thoughts." Michael shook his head in serious doubt.

Hayley didn't know if this needed to be discussed in public, so she kept her voice down. "About what?"

"Letting you kids be involved today, with everything that's gonna happen with Brian. I thought it would be a disservice to your minds to clutter it with unneeded worry. Not to mention your emotional states. But, now, that I think about it..."

"Dad wants me and Erica there. He told us last night, while you were showering Gus."

Michael sniffed out a snicker at the recent memory. "I know he feels like he has to do this alone. He's never wanted to impose on anyone, but ever since last night... he expects us to NOT be there. We've always been close with you kids. I can't see us letting him go through today all by himself. I know Gus agreed to watch him, take him to the hospital, then to the Cancer Center, but..."

Hayley liked the way this idea was shaping. "What were you thinking, Daddy?"

Michael bit his lip, reached over to turn off the burners. "Well, I think I should take you kids to school, that's a given. Ollie's gonna need to be picked up about eleven-thirty." He placed a fist on his hip, leaning back on the counter to look at Hayley. "How about I write you girls a note that there's a family emergency you'll need to attend to this afternoon? That way you'll still get credit for showing up, get any homework you'll need, make your excuses... but we can still show Brian our support."

Hayley felt the tears pool in her eyes. She kissed the pale cheek. "Whew! I'm glad I don't have to stay at school. I wanted to get out so bad. I don't think I could take the full day."

Michael closed his eyes at the sweet gesture of his daughter. "I'm sorry. I didn't think about how difficult this would be for you kids. I'm thinking about only Brian. The more I watch him, though, the more I see desperation in his eyes to simply ask what he doesn't feel he deserves."

Hayley turned around to face the direction of where Brian sat. He was cracking up with laughter at something Gus was going on about. She couldn't agree more. "He deserves so much more than he thinks he does."

"Thanks, baby." Michael patted Hayley's cheek in thankfulness. She had a similar heart for Brian that he did.

Someone else who knew how special a man like Brian Kinney was and would always be.

Hayley was going to bring over the plate of bacon and links. "No. Thank you."

"Oh!" Michael remembered something else. "Don't tell Brian. We'll surprise him when he least expects it."

"Got it." Hayley smiled as she carried the plate to the table.

The front doorbell sounded.

Hayley walked over to open the door. She looked down to watch a fireball of blond race to enter the house. "Abby? What are you...?" Abby ran under Hayley's arm to head toward the familiar kitchen area. Hayley noticed Cynthia climbing out of her SUV to make the trek across the front yard. "Cyn, don't you have to be at work?"

The pretty blond ringlets still shimmered about the young face. Cynthia was around the same age as Brian and Michael. "I do, but I wanted to say *hello* to Brian. Send him off properly." She wiped under her eyes to hide the light moisture of tears.

Brian could hear the familiar voice from where he was seated at the table. It broke his heart to hear the sound of Cynthia's emotionally cracking voice. He stood from his chair, sauntering over to head toward the front entrance. "Cyn... you don't have to..."

"Oh, Jesus! Shut up, Kinney!" Cynthia ran into Brian's arms, holding him closer than any ex-employee should their ex-boss. She had turned into a surprising best friend for Brian. He didn't mind babysitting her daughter, Abigail, during his illness and quick start to early retirement.

"Vance says `Good Luck'." Cynthia pulled back to caress the soft cheek. "I like the gray, Kinney. Makes you look..." She ruffled her French-manicured finger nails through the spiky locks.

"Distinguished." Michael supplied the reply as he walked into the room.

Cynthia squealed in glee. "Hey, cutie! Happy to see you home, finally!" She squeezed the imp of man in her arms. She kissed his flushed cheek. As she pulled back, Cynthia wiped away the lipstick stains. She always got choked up when she saw these two beautiful men together. To know how far they'd come through the years... to what they were dealing with at the moment. She didn't think she had the stamina. "I gotta split. I just wanted to say a quick howdy and rush off. Got an early morning conference in Philadelphia."

Brian's brow crinkled in worry. "Vance is making you drive all the way?!" He was about ready to ask Michael for his cell phone to make a quick call.

"No, silly!" Cynthia blushed at Brian's heated tone. Sounded like he truly cared. "Company helicopter. Perks of being a partner now."

Brian's furrowed brow cleared, then his bottom lip pouted. "I was a partner. I never got a helicopter ride."

Michael wrapped his arm about Brian's waist, tucking his body close under Brian's arm. "Brian, you weren't really Vance's *type*." He was trying to gesture to how incredibly striking Cynthia looked in her business outfit

"Oh, yeah. My legs are kinda hairy in a skirt, a bit on the hip-py side, too."

Cynthia blew the men kisses as she backed out. "Thanks for taking Abby to school for me, Michael. I owe you boys. Toodles!" She placed the sunglasses on her face as she raced out of the house.

"Wow!" Brian stared down at Michael's shocked gaze. "I think she's had too much coffee."

Michael snickered his comment out. "I think Cyn could fly there on her own if she knew how to make a good pair of wings."

"Shit!" Gus scooted back his chair, wiping his napkin on his face. He carried his plate over to the sink. "Come on, Pop. We need to get on the road."

Michael's face dropped. "Already?!"

Brian wrapped his arms around Michael's neck, pulling him in his arms. "I wish you were coming with me." He rocked Michael in his embrace, like he had done with the children when they were babies.

Michael tucked his face into Brian's chest. "Me, too. I'll be with you in spirit. I don't want you to worry about me. Take care of yourself." His arms circled Brian's trim waist. His fingers wrapped around his own wrist, securing himself in Brian's tight embrace.

"Pop... where`s your bag?" Gus inquired as he moved about the floor looking for all his stuff he was going to bring.

Brian sniffed, pulling back from Michael, wiping at his eyes. "Uh... at the bottom of the stairs." Hoping the kids didn't catch him, Brian turned his mouth to Michael's ear. "I know it's only one day, but I feel like my heart is breaking in my chest."

"You'll be fine." Michael pressed his lips to the under side of Brian's left ear, near the canal. "You're not alone anymore. Remember that. You're loved, beyond belief. Me and the kids... you're everything to us. If nothing gets you through this... just think about me... or look at Gus..."

Brian took that moment to look directly at his son, who had instantly turned into a mirror image of himself at age twenty. He reached out to grab onto Gus' hand that was being held out. He squeezed it tightly, tugging the unsuspecting child into the embrace.

Three more chairs scrapped across the tiled floor of the kitchen.

Oliver fit himself underneath everyone as he wiggled inside the human cocoon to latch onto Brian's waist. Erica fit herself between Michael and Brian. Hayley tried to arrange her body between Gus and Brian.

Arms were looped over arms and shoulders. This time, instead of laughter and silliness, there was silence and tears of hope and sadness. Then came the well-wishes.

"Love you, Daddy." Erica pressed her lips to the left cheek, feeling the wetness pouring down. She patted his right cheek. She had to get away quickly. Abigail was watching with wide tear-filled eyes from the kitchen. "He'll be okay, Abby." Erica grabbed onto her young friend's hand, holding it close to her chest.

Brian swallowed spastically. His arms were emptied of Erica, but then filled back up with Hayley. He lifted her up.

"Love you, too, Dad." Hayley closed her eyes tightly, squeezing as hard as she could, without hurting him. He didn't seem to mind. She backed away looking down at Oliver. "Let go, OL . Dad's gotta go." She tried to draw him back.

Oliver was still latched onto Brian's hips.

Brian shut his eyes, not expecting this out of Oliver. "I got him. Go back to the kitchen." He used his head to gesture for everyone to keep their distance. "I think we need to talk." He wobbled over into the living room. He was able to work himself out of the young child's death grip. He sat Oliver down on the coffee table, bending down to his level, kneeling on the carpet. "Speak to me. What's on your mind, dude?" He brushed his hands through the mass of raven curls. It made his heart ache to look at this little image of Michael at age six.

Oliver respected Brian. Funny that Brian knew that he had to say something. Like a six-year old's thoughts and worries had importance in his world. Brian didn't care how stupid or childish his comments and questions sounded. "I wish I could take away your pain, Dad."

Brian choked on a sob. He looked up at Michael who had to turn away to wipe at his own teary eyes. "You do, Oliver. Every time I see you... or I hear you laugh..." He chucked under Oliver's chin. "Or I see you smile... my pain goes away a little bit each day. You know what helps even better?"

"What?"

"When you talk to me. I like talking to you. You may not say much, man, but... whew!..." Brian pounded on his heart. "You hit me, right here, where it counts. I love you... though some days it doesn't seem like anyone cares."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "I know you care, Dad. I didn't think you'd want to be bothered by me. I can be such a baby about things."

Brian meshed his forehead with Oliver. "You're not a bother, at all. And... so what if you tend to be a *baby*?! It's kinda neat to have your perspective. Sometimes you make me see things, in a certain way, that I've never seen before. I don't know what I'd do without you in my life, kiddo. What's a superhero without his sidekick, huh?" He pulled up his fist to show Oliver what he wanted him to do. "Dynamic Duo Power. Come on... you know it."

Oliver blushed, a little embarrassed by the childish antics. "You're crazy." He pumped his little fist back, moving toward Brian's.

They smacked together.

Brian chuckled, pressing a kiss to Oliver's chubby cheeks. He got up off the floor, slowly watching as Michael raced up the stairs. "Michael?" He moved to the stair railing. "Mikey?!"

Gus swallowed his own emotions down. He put a hand on his father's shoulder. "Pop... he'll be alright. Come on. We gotta leave now." He took down a jacket from the hook on the wall. He helped dress and even turned his father around to zipper up the opening.

"I knew he'd be this way." Brian mumbled under his breath. "I wish..."

"Don't, Pop. He wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Just let him have his space to grieve. Every day he sits and watches over you... he can't help but think he loses a bit of *His Brian* every moment he's not with you. He'll be fine. I know it." Gus locked the zipper up to the pouting chin.

Brian zeroed his hazel eyes on Gus. "You don't have to do this, you know. I think Michael would rather be the one taking your spot."

"No... that's your subconscious speaking. You want him with you... for always. Like you keep saying. `Always have, always will'. Michael's got enough on his mind, Pop. The kids need him to get through their own feelings." Gus rushed his father out the door, waving furtively toward the eyes watching them exit. He shut the door gently as he sighed. "You ready?"

Brian squinted at the early morning sunlight. "No. Not really."

"Too late."

"I think I'll need that swift kick in the ass, kid. I can't seem to move off this porch."

Gus walked around his father, stepping down off the steps to the sidewalk. He held up his hands, palms up. "I'm here for you. I know I'm a sad replacement for Michael, but I won't care or love you any less than he does. Like he says, you're not alone. Not now, not ever again. We won't leave you alone. You're too important to us to let you go. All you gotta do is take my hand and we can begin this next journey. Forget about Jack Kinney. He chose his path and you are so far from him now it's nearly a miracle how you survived. You beat Jack, Pop... you can beat this cancer."

Brian sniffed, swiping up Gus' hands in his as he was steered down the steps. The medicines made him a little wobbly on his legs. His balance unsteady, a bit. "How'd you get so smart?'

"I learned from the best man I know."

"Yeah, Michael's quite a model father. He raised ME well."

Gus held open the door to his car for his father. "I was talking about you... Old Man Kinney."

Brian closed his eyes at the sweet sentiment. "Christ! I think this new medicine's making me weepy."

Gus waited for his father to climb into his seat, fitting his legs under the dashboard. "Yeah, it's the medicine." He slammed the passenger door shut. When he came around to the driver's side, he threw their bags in the back. "You're just as much of a sentimental fool as Michael and I are, admit it. You were this way before being  
diagnosed. Can't pull the wool over my eyes." Gus started the engine, revving as she purred like normal.

"Damn!" Brian looked about the familiar interior of the Jeep. "You never told me how you were able to find my old, crappy Jeep. Who'd you have to kill to steal it from under their nose?"

"Nobody, Pop. Some kid on Liberty Avenue was tooling around in it. Heard the rumor about the Jeep being sold for pennies. Said he needed the dough to get out of The Pitts. Sold it to me for even less than he wanted."

Brian's head shot directly toward Gus. "What were YOU doing on Liberty Avenue?"

"Easy, now." Gus set a calming hand on his father's knee. "I swear I'm straight. Aunt Em took me to lunch one day... and uh, for a shopping spree." He seemed ashamed to admit he let a gay man pick out his wardrobe.

"Ah, no wonder you were dressin' so much better than your simple t-shirt and jeans." Brian turned his head away to stare out the window as they pulled away down the street. "I'm sure Frankie approves."

Gus nodded in response. "I made Em stop at choosing my underwear, though. I felt so cheap... so used... The saleslady swore I was his *boytoy*. Em wasn't very forgiving to me, either. He milked the moment for all it was worth." He shivered in his skin, chilled by the idea of living with a life force like Emmett Honeycutt every day. "I love him, Pop, but..."

Brian reached over and patted Gus on his knee. "I know, son, I know." He tried not to lose himself in laughter at the sight of Emmett fawning over his very heterosexual son. Must have been a riot to witness.

"I don't like the sound of that chuckle."

Brian pinched Gus' cheek. "You're so cute when you blush."

"Dad! Stop!" Gus tried to brush away his father's tickling fingers. "Stop it! Behave!"

"Sorry." Brian tucked his hands, very conservatively, between his knees. "You're just so darn easy to tease."

"Quit it!" Gus could see from his peripheral vision.

"What? I'm simply sitting in my corner, not bothering you."

"It's your eyes. They've got mischief in them."

"Christ, I never thought there was anyone more provoked by my taunts than Michael."

"Don't... even go there." Gus used that *parental* index finger at Dad. "I'll make you walk all the way. I swear I will." He pressed on the brake at a Stop light.

"Ninny!"

"Brat!"

"Son?"

"What now!?"

Brian had to chuckle. "Uh... nothing, except the light turned green."

"Smart ass." Gus stepped on the gas pedal sending his father careening in his seatbelt restraint. "Sorry." He threw out an arm and a gentle apology.

"I love you, Gus-y-poo." Brian sing-songed under his throat muscles.

Gus nearly growled under his breath, rethinking having taken Michael's spot beside his father for today. In the split second of teasing, Gus looked over at the passenger side.

Brian was resting his head on the back of the seat. He was eyeballing the skyline of Pittsburgh passing them by, seemingly lost in his own mind.

Gus understood his father's need to be stupidly humorous, taking the edge off the nerves. Get too quiet and the thoughts rumbling in their heads would become maudlin and dark.

Gus popped in a CD in the dashboard radio, hoping to fill the sudden quiet with some familiar noise. He recalled burning this particular CD one evening in his dorm after a night Emmett had taken him to Babylon.

The techno/trance mix was a constant reminder of his father's past life and made him smile easily at the memories that followed.

Gus was pleased to be making his father feel something other than the sadness that was in his heart. He reached over, wrapping his hand around one of his father's forearms. Once he felt the hand open, Gus threaded his fingers with his father's.

Both Kinney men gently rocked to the bass thumping beat pouring from the speakers along the road to the hospital.

**~~TBC...**


	3. Chapter 3

“Mr. Kinney?!” The soft hand on Gus’ shoulder shook him to awaken. “Mr. Kinney?!”

Gus had thought someone was calling for his father, not him. “Wha-?!” He squinted his hazy hazel eyes up at the pretty young nurse. His charming smile snaked out, but only to show kindness. “Sorry...” He stretched his lethal body in the chiropractic nightmare of a chair in the surgical waiting room. “Must have dozed off.” His CD player had quit on him about ten minutes ago, his earphones were looped about his lobes. He rubbed at his face to wake himself up.

God, Gus hoped he hadn’t drooled.

The young nurse covered her bosom respectively with her delicate cardigan sweater over her hospital scrubs. “Your father’s in recovery right now.” She turned her watch over to match the time with the clock on the wall. “You can see him now or give us about forty-five minutes to another hour and a half for him to wake up. We’ll be bringing him back to the Day Surgery unit then.”

Gus swiftly stood from his seat, fixing his jacket and clothing. “I wanna see him. I think he needs to see my face when he wakes up.” He tugged off his earphones, rolling everything into itself to place in his backpack. He realized too late how he must have sounded. “Sorry...” He dipped his lids to pick a name off the badge hanging off the dainty neck. “Lucy... I’m not complaining about any of the care he’s received here, but if you understood who my father is... what he’s like...” He gathered all that they had brought with them, slinging the bags over his shoulder. “He’d like you to think he’s tough and strong on the outside, but inside... inside he’s...”

Gus attempted to find the perfect word to describe Brian Kinney to virtual strangers.

Lucy chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest. “A complete bowl of mush. Yeah... I know the type. Sounds just like my husband.” She winked at Gus, moving forward in the room to show him that he could follow her out. “By the way, I don’t mean to pry or anything, but... who’s *Mikey*?”

Halfway down the hall, Gus paused, curious to why this particular question had to be asked. “Why do you ask?”

Lucy put a comforting hand on Gus’ arm. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just that your father’s subconscious must be kicking in high gear. The medicine we give our patients, for sedation, unlocks many inhibitions.”

Gus began to walk again, while holding his belly full of laughter. “If you knew my father, you’d understand why I find that comment so hysterical. So would Michael... uh, the mysterious, *Mikey*.”

“This... *Mikey* must be pretty special to your father.” Lucy shook her head in perplexity as she held open the Entrance door toward the surgical unit. “He has the sweetest smile of contentment on his face. Has he always had powerful dreams?”

“Lucy...” Gus put a hand on the young woman’s shoulder. “... if I began to tell you the infamous story behind my father and his *Mikey*... you’d be clocking in for some major overtime.”

Pressing the button on the wall, near a set of double doors, Lucy pointed in through the automatic opening doorway. “I have to go back to my station at the desk, Gus, but truly... I mean it... if this *Mikey* should ever show his face, I wanna meet him.” She waved *g’bye* as she backtracked down the corridor to the Day Surgery nurse’s station.

“Mr. Kinney.” A booming voice from the open doorway commandeered Gus to look directly at whomever was speaking.

Christ! This hospital was giving Gus a complex. “Present!”

The harsh looking woman smiled. Her monochromatic colored scrubs depicted her position in the hospital ladder. “It’s okay, honey. Your father’s about to wake up. He’s yet to open his eyes for us, but he’s making verbal noises in his throat like he’s starting to come out of the fog of sedation. He’s in bed 6.”

“Thanks.” Gus trekked inside, feeling he should be similarly dressed like the employees.

The room had a sanitized feeling, with the addition of creepy bright lights. There were eighteen bed slots in total. Each set up to accommodate for any kind of recovering surgical patient.

On the wall, over each section cut by a rolling curtain, Gus counted down six spaces. He approached the stretcher as if he expected to be spooked the second he saw who was laying in the bed.

Someone had turned the lights off near the front portion of Bed 6, where machines stood to monitor the patient’s vital signs.

Brian lay sleeping on his side, curled into a tight ball.

The nurses had the head of the bed at a forty-five degree angle, but the sleeping patient still remained dead to the outside world. Lost in a much more pleasant dreamland.

“Oh... Pop.” Gus sighed at the adorable picture his father made of contentedly resting after some substantial surgery to an already weary body

The laproscopic procedure was more a simple precautionary measure taken to make certain every bit of the cancerous tumors had been removed. Be sure that the remission was still in progress. There was no major incision, only a small one made large enough for a telescopic scope to fit inside, sent in through the abdominal wall, or what most would call the *belly button*. From there, once they knew where they stood, they could learn where the battle needed to begin... they could start the next step into continued recovery.

The stretcher’s side rails had been pulled up, like Brian was being forced to remain in a tiny cage.

Gus set down the bags on the floor, unsure that he should have been the one who was forced to handle whatever had been found by the surgery. He had *eyes* only for the prone form laying asleep on the stretcher.

“Gus?” A voice from the white-coated body standing beside Brian spoke through the cerebral fog Gus was in.

Without realizing, Gus let the tears fall down his face. This moment was turning out to be too profound for him to ingest. He had no idea how Michael had withstood this much emotional confusion and frustration. He knew his father wanted Michael to be here.

Gus was beginning to agree that might not have been such a terrible request. He had only thought to relieve Michael, since he was living back home for awhile. “Yeah.” He wiped at his cheeks, tucking his shaking hands in his loose jeans.

“Dr. Damour...” The cultured Arabian accent lifted through the haze over the bed. “Your father talks very highly of you.” He paused for one moment to allow the young man to take in everything he was viewing for the first time. Very difficult for children, no matter what age, to see their strong parent figure laying helpless and in dire straits. “He seems extremely proud of what you have accomplished.” Sharp, coal-back eyes stared across the stretcher toward exhausted hazel ones. The pleasant demeanor was not a fake, which was unusual for a doctor of his culture and standard.

Gus took the strong, caramel colored hand in his own pale one. “Pop can’t say enough about you either.” Sturdy handshake, he used his other hand to wipe under his eyes. “I’m sorry I haven’t been down home long enough to actually get to meet and talk with you. You know with school and work... I just don’t seem to find the time to make it here as often.” His voice got wispy, as if regretful to have never once worried over his father’s health, letting Michael shoulder all the frenzied chaos.

“That is good that you are keeping busy in times like these. Don’t ever apologize. Your father is a very strong man.” Dr. Damour gazed down at his sleeping, post-op patient. “I’m happy to say that we have managed to finally give him a clean bill of health. Although, this last bit of chemotherapy and radiation is another step in a long process of staying ahead of the game. We may have rid his stomach of the tumors, but there’s no telling what can resurface over time. Your father has agreed to these sporadic treatments to coincide with the medications, combating any dormant tumors or lesions we may have missed.”

Gus squinted his eyes toward his father’s oncologist. “My grandfather died of his cancer.” He seemed to need to hear the exact words for his own ears.

“Your grandfather also never took any measure to prevent the cancer from spreading. He never took his medicines. Never showed up to his chemotherapy or radiation appointments. All he wanted was pain medications. Even on his last few days, he was on nothing but sedatives and a Morphine drip.”

Gus suddenly realized what he was hearing. “Dr. Damour, did you treat Jack?”

Dr. Damour turned his eyes back down to Brian. “Your father would not like me telling you this, but I've never seen the harm.” He shut his eyes, trying to find a humane thought about his nightmare patient from years ago. “Yes, Gus, I was supposed to have been your grandfather’s oncologist. Instead, I became his dependent for legal, medicinal drugs. Anything to help ease the pain.”

Gus closed his eyes, knowing what Jack had done to his own life, his grandmother’s life and his father’s. Like committing a slow suicide before their very eyes. “How... uh, was he? You know...?” He couldn’t bear to say the words.

Dr. Damour crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not going to lie and tell you Jack went as peacefully as we can hope for any of our cancer sufferers. He fought, everything and everybody... even me. He struggled to die.” As if reliving each day to day moment, those coal black eyes shut on his own pain and displeasure at losing a patient. Even if the patient had been as stubborn and pigheaded as Jack Kinney was. Dr. Damour believed even assholes and bastards had the right to move on in a tranquil manner. “Like your father had stated to me, Jack died like he loved. Constantly at battle, prepared to throw the first punch. It gave Brian comfort to know how much Jack suffered, in some maudlin, morbid way.”

Gus shook his head, not really fully aware what he was hearing. “Thank you for your honesty. I can see why Pop likes you so much. You don’t tread nicely.” He admitted to himself he immediately liked this man.

"I wasn’t always this way. I had my naive years.” Dr. Damour broke out in the most disarming smile. He looked instantly like a true man of his cultural heritage. “Your father has been one of my model patients. His type of cancer tends to be very discouraging. Like with colon cancers and many bone metastatic cancers, the ratio of death to survival for stomach cancers get fairly low each year. Early detections can be more of a help than one believes. What’s a little bit of discomfort for one or two days to know that you will have a lifetime more to live with your loved ones, eh?” The hand came out across the bed again toward Gus, patting the air. “I will leave you two alone. Let your father wake up without having to see my ugly face again. Some days, I feel like I see him more than Michael does.”

Gus laughed wholeheartedly at the glib comment. “Michael’s not the jealous type, Doc.”

“I know.” Dr. Damour’s face grew respectful and delighted by the mention of Michael’s name. “He’s the best support system your father can have right now. I wish all my patients had a *Michael* in their lives.”

“I’m sorry, dude.” Gus snickered and shook his head. “There’s only one and, rumor has it, they broke the mold.”

“That they did, Gus, that they did.” Dr. Damour lifted the thin hospital blanket from over Brian’s face to stare down at his favorite patient’s matured, handsome features. He could detect the fast paced R.E.M. under the pale closed lids. “He should be awake soon.” He placed the thin cotton-blend sheet back over Brian’s face. “Is Michael coming in later today?”

Gus looked at his watch and the wall clock. It was nearing eleven-thirty. “Michael had some errands to run, then he was gonna pick up the kids. The girls didn’t think they’d hack school knowing Pop was here.”

“Ah, Hayley and Erica, right? Oliver is your little brother?”

“Yeah.” Gus was impressed by the doctor’s keen knowledge of his family. Didn’t he have like four thousand other patients on his roster? “They all wanted to be here, with me... for Pop... but Michael thought it best that they at least go for a half day.”

“Smart man.” Dr. Damour placed his stethoscope’s ears in his own as he compared true human calculated vital signs with the technological advanced ones done with the fancy computer age. “His pulse is a little raised, but that’s expected coming out of sedation into a world of unknown aches and pain.” He lifted the blanket over Brian’s back. He placed the flat circular drum over certain areas of the naked skin. “Good breathing sounds, both lateral and bi-lateral. No wheezing.” He moved the stethoscope out of his ears, down around his neck. He covered his patient back up from the cool air. “I’ve got a few rounds to make on the floors. At least one more consult to catch up from the hectic weekend.” He wiped at his tired eyes, looking like a man who was prepared to collapse at any minute. “I promised your father I’d meet him at the Cancer Center for his treatment. So... will I see you there, Gus?” As Gus nodded his head, Dr. Damour held out his hand again. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same here.” Gus put out his hand, shaking strongly once again. “It’s nice to finally put a face to a familiar name.” He gave a slight wave as the doctor quietly exited with one last glance at his father in the stretcher. Gus turned back toward the stretcher when he was alone. He saw the hand on the pillow begin to twitch. “Pop?”

“Wha-? Gus??!” Brian slowly flipped over, half on his side, half on his back. “Son?? Wha? Where’s...” Though it was dark, he still shielded his eyes from the timid lights.

Gus snickered, knowing that he wouldn’t be forgiven for mentioning how cute his father looked laying in bed like a sleeping angel. Or the rumors that might be flooding the operating room concerning Mr. Kinney and His *Mikey*. He brushed back the spikes, rubbing at the scalp. “You’re fine, Pop. You’re all done.”

“Seriously?” Brian’s mouth was achingly dry. He opened and closed it to rework the jaw bones.

“Is THIS the face of a liar?” Gus gestured toward his prize-winning grin.

“Is that... rhetorical?” Brian stared one-eyed up at his handsome son.

“Ooooo... Pop... stop...” Gus clutched at his *gut*. “You wound me.”

Flipping over on his left side, facing Gus, Brian wiggled around to rest back under the blankets. “Well... how’d it go?”

Gus rolled his eyes, drawing a rolling chair over with his foot. “Jeesh, you tell me? How do you feel?”

Brian paused, thought for a minute. “Surprisingly... chipper.” He yawned and gently closed his lids.

Gus stared in disbelief. “Nope, try again. *chipper* is not in The Kinney’s vocabulary. I need something better, something... I don’t know... much meatier.”

Brian looked sheepishly at Gus, while hiding under the hem of the covers. “I had a dream about Michael.” A corner of his lips lifted in sly hilarity.

“Oh... Good Lord, man!” Gus hadn’t meant to groan so loudly. A few nurses’ heads turned at the outburst. “Pop, has Michael ever warned you that you talk in your sleep?” He rolled closer, grabbing onto the railing beside his father’s prone form.

“No.” Brian’s dark eyebrows furrowed. “Why do you ask?”

Gus decided to keep his mouth shut, let his father think nothing of the question. “Oh... no reason.” He didn’t even want to know secrets meant for only his father and Michael. He didn’t even want anything whispered into his ear. A change of subject had to happen. “Pop, can I ask you something?”

Brian saw the instant flip to Gus’ emotions. The reaction was always displayed openly on his young face, especially in the eyes. “Sure, son, what is it?” From under the pristine white blankets, the tapered, long-fingered hand came out to cup over Gus’ on the railing.

“Why couldn’t you ever tell me the truth about Jack?” Gus switched their positions, covering his father’s while cupping the lone hand in between his palms.

“What do you...?” Brian felt weird about hearing that name right now. His head pushed back in wonder. “How do you mean...?” Then it slowly sank into his head what happened. “You met Dr. Damour.”

“Yeah. You knew I would some day. And certainly today, of all days.”

“I know... I just... it got easier to forget Jack once I knew and understood what had happened.”

“Is that why you chose his doctor to be your own doctor? To appease some kind of guilt in yourself over Jack’s passing?”

“No. I did it for truly selfish reasons. Like how I always make my decisions in life.”

“Liar.”

“What do you want me to say, Gus?”

Gus shrugged, unsure of what he wanted to hear. “Pop, it was bad enough Jack’s ghost followed you throughout most of your adulthood. Finally allowing Michael into your life, wanting to commit to him and him alone. Building a family with him was supposed to rid you of those demons from childhood. Why revisit them during your illness? You’re supposed to remain stress free and healthy.”

Brian shut his eyes to the sympathetic anger that Gus usually shared with him over the memories of Jack Kinney. It made his heart ache to know that he could make someone *hate* another human, even a blood relation, just by mere words and thoughts. “One thing this illness has taught me is that anger can be a good thing. I originally thought what a laughable fuckin’ sign from God that I get referred to Jack’s oncologist. Kinney’s don’t know they’re feeling anything unless it’s painful and agonizing to the soul. We thrive on torment. That was how I was going to deal with this... cancer. Then I met Dr. Damour and... he told me of what Jack had done to himself. I admit once I knew the prick was dead, so be it. But to learn that he made his own body serve penance for his sins, truly crushed me. It was even more disturbing to realize I felt... bad for him. I know my mother was never the Happy Homemaker and she wouldn’t have been the supportive spouse by his side. So I’m pretty certain he died alone.” Brian raised wide hazel eyes toward his son’s own intense gaze. “That’s my one fear. Being truly alone and in pain, needlessly suffering for no reason. Might have made sense to Jack at the time, but when it was happening he was ruining more lives than just his own.”

Gus had to avert his eyes for a moment. “Did something happen with Dr. Damour?”

Brian’s brow furrowed. “Why do you ask?”

“He’s seems awfully attached to you for some reason. Strangely... it seems.” Gus shook his head at the odd feeling of *brotherhood-ness* he got from Dr. Damour. “He’s smitten by Michael.”

“Everyone loves Michael, but I know who Michael loves most... and best, so I don’t get crazy jealous.” Brian lowered his gaze. “Dr. Damour suffered a deep depression after Jack passed on. The nurses in his office called that time a *mental breakdown*. Being surrounded day-in-day-out by death puts a lot of extra pressure on a person’s soul. How many times can you say *goodbye* after trying so hard to keep people alive? Kind of disheartening. I know I couldn’t hack it. Watching Jack die was even more tragic for Dr. Damour.”

Gus turned his head away, laying his forehead on the railing. “You keep telling me to forgive him, Pop. But the more I hear, I don’t see the point. Being my biological family doesn’t make someone lovable. It’s takes time and effort.”

“Son, it’s amazing to me what clarity I’ve found in dying...”

“Surviving...” Gus corrected his father’s blatant words.

“Please... it’s my disease, let me at least own it’s vocabulary to use as I wish.”

“I wish... I wish, Pop, that you still didn’t love Jack Kinney enough to continually want his approval.”

Brian reached out to caress his son’s stubbled cheek. “When we pass on, Gus, we don’t take any baggage from this world. We leave it all behind. Why do you think I kept Michael at bay for nearly twenty years? I still hated Jack for making me the person I was. But Michael was always there to love me enough to remind me of the man I was meant to become. That’s more powerful than any hate, prejudice or anger. Any emotional vice Jack could keep me in. I had to let go or it would have eventually killed me.” He allowed his fingers to play with Gus’ spikes. “This new *look* of yours is growing on me.”

Gus snickered, rolling his eyes. “I hope Frankie doesn’t mind.”

Brian didn’t understand the need for Gus to suddenly change his hairstyle. “Why’d you do it?” He squinted his eyes when Gus gave him the oddest look, like he should know. “The hair. You’ve been growing it long since you were sixteen. Why now?”

“ ‘Cause...” Gus lowered his voice, averting his eyes. “I was too chickenshit to let Michael completely shave my head.”

Older hazel eyes challenged younger ones.

“Damn... you did this for me, didn’t you?” Brian was finding it difficult to swallow the lump in his throat. Gus was always doing something so out of the ordinary that would throw him for a loop as to why he would show so much tender support and care. Brian knew he hadn’t been as good of a son as he was a father. It was easy to raise a child like Gus, like no effort whatsoever.

Gus nodded his head, drawing closer to his father’s face laying on the pillows. “And when your hair falls out, again, and you’re back to that way-cool buzz cut you’ve had before... I think my courage will be ready to shave all this off.”

“Gus... look, you don’t have to do that. I know...”

Gus held up a hand in silence. “Can’t talk me out of it. Mind is made up. Hey, it’s the least I can do. You don’t ever ask me for anything. I like helping you out when I can, and showing you my support. Who the hell do you think managed to powerhouse the final culmination of your relationship with Michael?”

Without blinking an eye, Brian looked away in thought. “Your sister, Hayley.”

Gus gave his father the *evil* stare of knowing he was teasing at being obtuse.

Brian chuckled as he lost himself in the similar hazel eyes of his own image. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing AT you, I’m laughing WITH you.”

“Yeah, sure.” Gus grabbed for his father’s hand where he was hooked up to an intravenous line, giving him plenty of fluid and medicine to combat what his body was trying to compensate for. “I’m just not pretty enough, am I?” He pretend to be sniffling.

Brian brought the hand to his cheek, kissing the back, laying it under his head on the pillow. “Actually... don’t take this the wrong way, but I really... really, really wish you were Michael.” A sad pouty smile escaped.

“No offense taken. I’m not too good in these places. They don’t spook me or anything. It’s simply very odd being in such a claustrophobic, sanitary building where Life and Death collide on a daily basis.” Gus shrugged, rolling his shoulders like he was suddenly chilled.

Brian lowered his eyes, almost able to imagine Michael right beside him. “It’s not why you think I need him. I wanted to be sure that should I not make it... should things not pan out...”

“Don’t!” Gus tugged back his hand to put over his father’s mouth. “Don’t you DARE finish that sentence! God wouldn’t be so cruel!”

Brian worked his head from under Gus’ hand. “God has nothing to do with my life anymore, son.” He furrowed his brow in mock anger, more at the circumstances than certain people. “And who would the cruelty be for, exactly? Is it wrong of me to assume that I could *go* at any time? Is it crazy of me to want my family protected and comfortable upon my eventual death? I don’t want Michael, or any of you kids, to needlessly suffer from my foolishness. I need to know that everyone and everything will be alright should I pass away...” He realized that Gus hadn’t become comfortable with his mode of language by the frightened, wide-eyed look of worry he was giving him. “You know... sometime... in the... uh, future... way, way in the future.” Too late. “Shit! Come here...”

Gus bowed his head on the mattress feeling his father press a kiss to his hair and petting through the spiky ends. “I hate that you feel so free talking like this. Another reason for me to wish Michael was here. I’ve only had nineteen years with you. Michael’s had a lifetime and he’s more suited to hear this from you, Pop.” He shut his eyes to the ache in his chest. He couldn’t bear to look directly at his father as words he’d been wanting to say surfaced. He turned his face to lay his head on the blankets. “No matter how far ahead you plan, it’s never gonna be alright. I don’t know about the girls and Oliver, but for me...” He lifted his head slightly, flipping his face on the other cheek to look at his father, raising his hazel eyes slowly. “I’m sure I’ll move on, get past the loss, but life will forever be empty. You’ve become more than a *father* to me. You’re my mentor, my best friend. Someone I respect, trust and love deeply, beyond words. An integral part of ME will be missed. I don’t know that I could find anyone to replace you... in my heart. Maybe once I have a child of my own... a son.” He recognized the tears pooling in those mirrored hazel eyes. “Pop, rest assured, I’d be telling you this even if you weren’t sick.”

Brian adored the many ways he could discover Michael’s influence on their children, especially Gus. Michael’s *magic* was potent and powerful. “I love you, Gus.” It had taken many years for Brian Kinney to become used to releasing that kind of information in public.

A complete sentence, not shrouded in code words and shorthand.

**~~TBC...**


	4. Chapter 4

Gus nodded his head, knowing how much integrity it took for his father to admit that kind of weakness. He leaned in to press his lips on the smooth skin of his father’s brow. “I love you, too, Pop. For always.” He picked his head up off the stretcher. 

Clearing his throat, Brian could detect a pair of eyes venturing in the direction of his bed. His Recovery Room nurse was hovering nearby.

Finding a moment to interrupt, she calmly walked closer, standing by the end of the footboard. “How are we doing, Mr. Kinney? Any pain?” She scribbled on some papers clipped on her 0board.

Brian adjusted his chilled body under the blankets. “Better than I’ve ever felt. No. No pain.” He never liked asking complete strangers for help or handouts. Even if it was something fairly insignificant. But he could feel his body begin to shiver. He opened his mouth to speak, but Gus butted in.

“Can we get some warm sheets?” Gus stood up, pushing back the rolling chair. He glanced down at his father, brushing back the flyaway locks of hair on the cool tempered forehead. “Pop... you thirsty or anything?”

Brian blanched, shaking his head to decline the offer. He was shocked by how perceptive Gus was to his needs, just like Michael. Damn! He missed his favorite partner in crime. Ached for him. Cursed his stubborn, foolish pride.

The nurse jotted down her notes and a set of vital signs for her patient’s chart. “Right now, best I can do is ice chips. Once we take you back on over to Day Surgery, they’ll be able to give you anything your little heart desires.” She clicked the tip of her pen, reaching down to pat the shape of a foot under the covers. “But I’ll be happy to bring you some more blankets.” She tucked her clipboard under one arm, wandering over toward the other side of the room.

“Thanks!” Gus shined his charming Kinney grin, again. He slowly trailed behind the nurse as she approached a steel cabinet that kept the hospital blankets warm and toasty for chilled patients. The nurse handed him two deliciously heated folded blankets. He cradled them to his chest, laying his cheek on their surface. “Oooooo... this is nice. I gotta get me one of them for the dorm.” He turned to hear the nurse chuckle lightly as she walked back to her post at the nurse’s station desk. Gus made his way back over to his father’s bed. “Pop, this is like puttin’ on a pair of jeans straight from the dryer.” He pulled the curtain along the tracks for privacy. He set the material on his seat, for the moment. He removed the other, cool covers. He shook out, first, one blanket, billowing the material over the bent lower half of his father’s body. Then immediately following, the second blanket was placed. “How’s that?”

Brian snickered as Gus went around meticulously tucking in the material about his body. “Son, this is becoming a habit.”

Gus shrugged his shoulders. “So I like taking care of you. You know I’d come back home, to help, if you just ask.”

“Gus...” Brian stretched his hand out toward Gus.

“What?” Gus was standing behind his dad, near the end of the stretcher, eyeballing the wiggling fingers.

“Give me your hand. Climb in.”

“Pop, no. They don’t allow that kind of stuff to go on here. People will think us...”

“Weird? Queer? Gay? In love?” Brian saw Gus dip his head in shame. “Look... face it... we are... I am... Michael and I are... and we both are, with each other and with other people. Am I wrong?” He smiled as he heard his son snicker and pinch the bridge of his nose. “If it helps, I’ll tell them it’s the medications.” Brian wouldn’t take the offer of his hand back. “Fine, I’ll inform them it’s my last dying wish.” Gus still wouldn’t budge, but he moved about to stand on the right side of the stretcher, behind Brian’s back. “Don’t make me beg, Sonnyboy.”

“Hold your horses, Pop! Geez! I’m not stalling. I’m trying to figure out how to lower this railing.” The noise of some latch being released allowed Gus to put down the upper railing so he could lay on the mattress, with one foot still on the floor. That was in case he began to hear the patter of nurse’s shoes on tile. “Pop?” He gently called out to check on his father, who curled back into a sleeping position.

“Quiet. I’m having a *moment*.” Brian whispered into the pillow.

“Pop, hospital rules strictly forbid... the employees here have special kind of *radar* for this kind of stuff that goes behind closed curtains...” Gus was trying to find a way out of laying in bed with his father, except he denied the fact that he wanted to stay right where he was and just soak up what he could. That still wouldn’t be enough.

Gus wasn’t being let go of, either.

Brian was holding on tighter than he ever had with plenty of anesthesia still coursing through his body.

Gus had tried to read his father well, like Michael could. Was his father reacting to an overload of emotions... or was there something more he couldn’t bear to tell his children?

Gus had attempted to understand his father, know all his silly and weird attributes, the stuff Michael had tuned him to when he was younger. But Michael was the only one Gus relied on when all his other senses failed. Michael had the unfair advantage of over two decades, Gus was barely halfway there.

The tell-tale signs of soft snores told Gus that his father was out for the count.

The weakening body curtailed by the medicines in the IV, plus Brian’s body tended to shut down at odd times during his illness. Sometimes moments that he deeply desired to stay awake for.

It was a plausible occurrence Gus was used to. He didn’t mind, he just slinked out of his father’s loose grip. He moved beyond the curtain to settle himself back to rights, fix his hair and clothing. When he looked up, toward the double doors into the Recovery Room, Gus noticed the young nurse from earlier trying to wave at him.

“Lucy” was her name, Gus recalled and she was standing outside the doors, sweetly smiling in his direction.

Gus made sure his father was sleeping soundly before he gathered everything he’d brought with him. He didn’t want to disturb the chance for his father to get some much needed rest. He picked up speed to head beyond the room he was in.

Lucy smiled, crossing her arms over her ample bosom with the lapels of her sweater. “I thought you might like to know that your father has some visitors.”

Gus quirked up a lone eyebrow. “Visit...?” He wasn’t sure what she could be talking about. Michael and the other kids had made it. Who could possibly be out there for them? “Okay. Show me where.” He had no idea where to go.

Lucy waved ahead of her. “Walk with me. I need a break from my desk duty.”

“Thanks, Lucy.”

“Thank you. My ass could go numb from sitting so long without getting up once and awhile.”

Gus almost choked at hearing the obscenity from a hospital employee. He had to think, there were moments in this line of work where the *walls* came down and people could be shown a true human side to certain things in this medicinal world. “I’d take that as a compliment, but I don’t know how to respond.”

Lucy was leading him down a long hallway toward a single doorway. The doorway was off a meagerly filled, public waiting room.

“There were only a few people originally, but after a short time they kept showing up... one by one...”

As the door opened, Gus could only stand in awe at the array of familiar faces, past and present, who had come to show their love and support over his father, Brian Kinney. Strange to see, when Gus and Michael could agree on plenty of these same ones wishing Brian dead many, many years ago.

“Gus!?”

“Sweetie!!”

“Baby... you look so different... so handsome with short hair...”

“Awww... honey, look at you. Look how much you’ve grown.”

“My God it’s like looking in the frickin’ face of Brian Kinney again.”

The collection of voices bombarded Gus as he was tugged into the room by his brother and sisters, who slowly dispersed back into their corners, near Michael.

Lucy smiled, shutting the door on the mass confusion. She gently closed the door, heading back to work.

Gus could barely register the features coming toward him. The tender, loving hands caressing his face, the sweet kisses placed on his cheeks. He couldn’t get beyond the shock, unable to speak and respond to their comments and questions.

Grandma Debbie and Carl... Aunt Emmett and Uncle Ted... Vic and Rodney... His mothers, Lindsay and Melanie... Justin and his new boyfriend... Ben and his fiancé, a fellow professor at Carnegie Mellon...

The most revealing visitor was his Aunt Claire and his grandmother, Joan. Claire was standing by Joan seated in a chair, contemplative about joining the foray. He gave Joan a smirk of *thankfulness* for at least putting forth some effort to be civilized. He’d been trying to forge some relationship for his father and his grandmother... but found himself disappointed most of the time. Whenever he found her taking his advice, Gus showed his appreciation.

Gus had *eyes* only for one person... and he found them. The desperately suffering ones pining for his own. “Excuse me.” He didn’t mean to be rude, but he had to push through the extended conglomerate of family and friends to reach his immediate family of siblings and... Michael.

Everyone backed away and allowed Gus to find solace with the ones he needed at this very moment. They all found themselves getting quite choked up by the tender love and devotion shone through this quaint family of Brian and Michael’s.

Oliver was the first to jump into Gus’ arms. Big brother comforted little brother. Gus made sure Oliver knew their father was fine, caressing his curly hair, lovingly, and whispering a few words in his ear.

Gus moved to soothe Oliver’s back, while reaching out his left arm for either of his sisters to approach. Erica and Hayley came at their older brother all at once. Erica on Gus’ left and Hayley on Gus’ right.

Michael’s gaze warmed and widened, growing misty at the show of love the circle of children had for one another. He steepled his palms over his nose and mouth. “Gus...”

Gus sniffled and lifted his head to glance over at Michael. “Yeah, Dad?” The endearment came out too easily.

“I, uh... took it upon myself to invite someone else. She called the house and... well... I couldn’t NOT bring her along. She was... well, shit...” Michael rubbed a nervous hand over his brow, looking at the door behind him. “She had to make a bathroom run before you came in.”

Just then... the lock was turned and a faucet shut off as the door slowly opened.

Gus tried to keep his jaw from further dropping on the floor. His eyes sharpened and widened in amazement. “Frankie?”

Hayley took Oliver out of Gus’ arms.

Erica wiped at her eyes, not being able to stop smiling at how deeply in love Gus was with this strange looking girl. She stepped back from Gus’ space, letting him go.

Frankie noticed all those strange eyes all over her again. She had no idea she’d be introduced to Gus’ ENTIRE family when she agreed to tag along with Michael. “Shit, Kinney... you look...” She hooked a thumb in one of her back jean pockets.

Gus blushed, rubbing a wayward hand over his spikes to send them high. “Pretty sexy, huh?”

Frankie sent a glance over to Michael. She leaned over to whisper in his ear, then nudged him with her bony elbow.

Michael could only nod his head in agreement. “He does... doesn’t he?!”

Gus kept a hand on his chest. “You didn’t have to come here, Frankie.”

“Can I?” Frankie asked of Michael, not wanting to infringe on his moment with Gus.

“Beauty before age, by all means.” Michael bowed away in silence, winking over at the pretty young girl. He had to admit... Frankie wasn’t exactly the kind of girl they’d have assumed Gus would be attracted to. But both Brian and Michael knew what strange attractions entailed and were able to understand when opposites felt the draw of strong emotions.

Frankie grabbed Michael’s face and shockingly smooched him on the lips. Her black nail-polished, heavily silver-ringed fingers shaping his adorable cheeks. “I love this man! Kinney... you should have introduced us sooner.” She let Michael go with a slight shove in kindness... like “Awwww, shucks!”

Michael chuckled, liking that Frankie kissed his lips instead of some other exposed area of his face where he wouldn’t know was marred by lipstick. Frankie seemed to like dark colors... especially black and they didn’t mesh well on Michael’s pale face.

With a light “thank you, Dad” Gus slowly wandered closer to Frankie. Frankie did the same, her over-sized black leather motorcycle boots clomping on the tiled flooring. Gus was taller than most young men his age, so Frankie was a good height in comparison. She reached out a hand to scrub back-n-forth over Gus’ head, he bent toward her to give her easy access.

Emmett bent to speak low into Ted’s ear... or so he thought. “I think I saw this on National Geographic once... must be how heteros mate.”

Gus shut his eyes in silent ecstasy. “Shut up, Aunt Em.”

“No harm meant, sweetie.” Emmett did as asked.

Gus opened his arms and Frankie found a good niche to wrap herself into.

Michael knew he had done well by bringing Frankie. His eyes teared up further to see how in love Gus actually was with the young woman who could put Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, to shame. Somehow he just knew how much Gus would need his own comfort from someone who didn’t expect anything from him. Watching the two entwined made him miss his own partner and best friend.

Gus startled himself slightly out of Frankie’s embrace, tugging her close to his side. “Dad...” How could he have let Michael remain suffering for this long?

“Yeah?” Michael was feeling antsy to see Brian, get one glimpse of him, at least to know he was doing fine. His eyes secretly begged Gus to keep honest about how Brian was fairing.

“He’s asleep... but I know he wants to see you.”

Michael closed his eyes, trying to find strength enough to put one foot forward and move out of this room. He wiped under one eye, terrified of his silly emotions.

“Oh, Daddy.” Hayley was the first of the girls to approach Michael. She hugged him close. “Brian’s gonna be okay.”

“I know.” Michael mumbled out on a snicker.

Erica couldn’t stop her own tears over how worried she was over her father’s recovery. “Tell him I love him.”

Michael cupped Erica’s sweet face in his palm. “I will, honey, but he already knows.”

Oliver kept his face buried in Hayley’s neck.

Michael just scraped a hand over his young son’s mop of dark curls, then kissed his brow. “Love ya, Ol.”

“Me, too, Daddy.” Oliver whispered only loud enough for Michael to hear. “Tell Dad I'll be waitin’ for him.”

Michael choked on his next breath, realizing he had to run out of this room or fall into a miserable puddle of grief and emotional baggage.

Brian could always set his feelings on the straight and narrow, never to let them fall at anyone’s feet in order to be trampled on and made to look foolish, vulnerable. Michael knew his purpose with Brian around, he knew what was important and what his focus should be toward.

Brian had given Michael the courage he always lacked. Michael had given Brian the love he had been deprived of.

With quiet well-wishes on his way through the door, Michael finally made it safely out into the corridor, but not before Gus told him something else.

“At the desk... ask for Lucy... she’ll be happy to lead you to where Pop is” Gus was still prepared to do the kind nurse one last favor.

Meeting the great mythical figure of *Mikey* in Brian Kinney’s life.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The walk seemed long for Michael, maybe he should have picked up his pace. Right now, alone in the hallway, he felt all of his forty-something years come rushing into his body. To leave a room full of friends and family to make a agonizing journey toward Brian... left Michael feeling like this was becoming the longest seconds suspended in time. Almost as long as it had taken Michael to force Brian to come to his senses. He left the private waiting room, shutting the door on everyone’s chatter.

Sometimes... Michael wondered why he and Brian had remained in Pittsburgh, carrying on to build a home and keep having as many children as they did.

In truth, Michael had fondly wished Brian had whisked him away, running to some far off place only they would know about. Run away and start a brand new life in a new town... always together, never apart for longer than a few hours for work.

Oh... yes, they had tried... once, but never again.

Both had packed up a good amount of clothes, planned to have Emmett housesit the loft and left enough mystery to make people think they were never going to return. Only... someone had forgotten to tell their children, Gus and Hayley.

Gus had gotten sick first and foolishly curious Hayley was soon to follow.

Standing in the same hospital corridor Brian and Michael had been down during Gus’ birth, leaning their shoulders into one another, drained from the *talk* the Lesbian Mothers gave them about being responsible fathers in their children’s lives... while recovering from the night vigil they took to sit at Gus and Hayley’s bedsides on the Pediatric Ward... they silently agreed on one thing.

They were going to be the kind of fathers they had always dreamed of having for themselves.

Nearly a year later... came Brian’s first cancer scare.

Brian and Michael quietly thanked whomever from above for making them keep their feet on solid ground and creating a stable home life. The roads had been rough, but so worth the agony.

“Michael?”

Michael didn’t hear his name called, at first. He’d been blindly approaching the automatic double doors when he nearly bumped into a pretty, young blond nurse. He used the nearby wall to keep himself upright.

“Mikey?”

Okay... now Michael’s attention was caught.

Michael raised himself up, turning toward the sound of the sweet, motherly voice. The kind he had wished his own mother to have. “Yes...?” His chocolate brown eyes blinked, trying to focus and concentrate. Hard to do when he felt his whole life flashing before his eyes. Every time it seemed like Brian was slipping out of his grip, somehow out of his life, he felt this way.

Lucy smiled, offering her bent arm to guide Michael. She was more than pleased by the vision of cuteness before her. She couldn’t help the grin that sneaked out.

Brian Kinney had great taste in men. Definitely NOT who she would picture someone as gorgeous as Mr. Kinney to choose as a life mate, but... she saw perfection in the oddness of their attraction. Sure they seemed polar opposites, their rightness together reflected in how they complimented one another... and by how deep their mutual love and affection ran.

The salt-n-peppery hair made the childlike features more distinct. There wasn’t a wrinkle of time on that gentle face.

Brian Kinney was lucky to have found this *gem* when he did... and the brilliance to never let go.

“You didn’t have to stand out here and wait for me. I could have...” Michael flipped the complimentary offer of an arm around, lightly tucking Lucy’s in his elbow.

“Sorry...” Lucy patted the strong biceps, unable to contain her addictive smile. “Forgive a girl for being curious.”

“Oh?” Michael raised an eyebrow in suspicion. His knees were slightly wobbly... his eyes searching out the halls for a doorway marked as a public restroom.

“I’m gonna take you as far as the Recovery Room doors. Mr. Kinney’s resting peacefully now. They’ll bring him back my way once he’s met the criteria to leave the recovery area.”

At the second set of automatic doors, ones that led into the Recovery Room, Lucy picked up an outside phone from the wall. “Hey, it’s Lucy. I have Mr. Kinney’s significant other. Can I send him on in?” The easy smile broke out on reddish-tinged lips. “Great!” Lucy sent a wink toward Michael’s curious gaze. “Thanks, hon’, you’re a doll.” She hung up the extension, pressing the huge button for the automatic doors to open. “Go on in. He’s waiting for you... Bed 6...”

“Thanks, Lucy.” Michael humbly nodded his head as he squeezed the hand he was pulling away from his body.

“No...” Lucy leaned in to whisper closer to Michael’s ear. “... thank you.” She almost hated to lose sight of the man until she asked him a question that had peaked her interest. “Michael... how do you do it?”

Michael wrinkled his brow in confusion. “Do what?” A tiny grin lifted up half his mouth.

“Singlehandedly make one man so completely devoted to you?”

Michael caught sight of a nurse approaching him from inside the unit he was entering. “Well... if I tell you my secrets... where would the fun be in finding out for yourself? No joy in the chase if you always know how to win.”

Lucy chuckled. “True. You got me there.”

The Recovery Room nurse brightly smiled at Lucy. “I’ll take him from here. Follow me, Mr. Novotny.”

“Can’t I convince you to let ONE little hint out?” Lucy tried again, mumbling under her breath so the other nurse couldn’t hear.

Michael was about ready to follow the other nurse when he realized maybe it would be neat to be honest for once. He thought about the question, then placing a hand on Lucy’s arm he bent toward her bowed head. “Always... be willing to die for them... at any cost...”

Lucy choked on a reply, nodding her head slowly. Shockingly, the advice made sense. “I see what you’re saying. Can I assume, from HIS angle... through sickness and in health... always be prepared to LIVE at all costs, as well, right?”

Michael was stunned by Lucy’s apt addition to his comment. Had she picked up on exactly what Brian was attempting to do? The only thing Michael had left to fill in was what continued to motivate Brian to keep on living, overcoming obstacle after obstacle.

Lucy gave a small wave as she turned back toward the nurse’s station she had been sitting at.

Michael watched Lucy leave with a heavy heart. She had certainly given him something to ponder through his misery. He finally picked up his pace with the nurse and was led to a drawn curtain. He wasn’t able to fully see Brian’s prone form yet. All he heard were the machines monitoring Brian’s stable, slumbering vital signs. Soft snores from Brian’s deviated septum that only Michael could decipher flowed through. He had to catch his next breath before he put one foot beyond the boundaries of the curtain.

“In another fifteen-to-twenty minutes, we’ll be wheeling Mr. Kinney over to Day Surgery where they will continue to make sure he remains stable. There he’ll be able to wake up a little more and then try something to drink. Now we’ve only been trying to feed him ice chips and ease his pain. Dr. Damour has prearranged for him to be transported by stretcher to C-Dock.”

“C-Dock?” Michael had to giggle. “Sounds like something out of Star Trek.”

The nurse obviously wasn’t a fan. She placed a gentle hand on Michael’s forearm. “It’s the shortened name we give for the cancer center’s chemo and radiation facility.” Her hand began to rub Michael’s sleeve. “Brian is okay. No need to worry.” She thought humor was a sign of nervousness. “He’s been the best patient I’ve had all morning.”

“Bet you say that to all your patient’s family members.”

“I’ll never tell.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t make you.” Michael inhaled and exhaled some strong breaths, to steel himself and find the courage to face Brian without looking like a total pussy.

The nurse left Michael to bear his own hardships.

Taking one last inhale of air toward bravery, Michael slid the material aside, entered... and then suddenly chickened out by quickly turning around to draw the curtain into complete privacy.

Tiny pin-pricks of tears trickled out of his eyes as Michael wandered over to the right side of the stretcher where the railing had been dropped. His head bent to only stare down at the floor, he blindly reached out for the blankets, lifting them and crawling underneath to align himself with Brian’s shape.

Burying his nose in Brian’s shorn locks, Michael’s arms instinctively curved about Brian’s thin frame.

Michael’s front spooning Brian’s back. He felt the tender rub to his clasped hands.

“I dreamed you were right by my side.” Brian mumbled into his pillow. He released a heavy sigh. “I never thought you’d make it.”

Michael lifted his head only slightly, sniffling. “I almost didn’t... sorry for waking you...”

“Don’t apologize.” Brian tried to pull Michael closer. “You’re exactly what I’ve needed to get through today... and the rest of it all.”

Michael bent down to press a light kiss to the curve of Brian’s ear, down the line of his neck into the slope of his bony shoulder, where the gown had exposed some naked skin. “How’d’ja know it was me?” He teased, expecting Brian to find this completely hilarious.

Brian deeply chuckled, not believing Michael would actually ask that question. He was too doped up to respond with one of his quick, witty comebacks. He licked his dry lips, securing Michael’s forearms around his waist. “Heard your voice outside the curtains. Once you pulled the curtain I kept feigning sleep.” He had to clear his clogged throat. “ ‘Sides... no one holds me like you do...”

“Mmmm... really?” Michael spoke with his lips against Brian’s body, humming over the slip of clothing.

“Yup... so much confidence and willpower in you, Michael... like you won’t ever let me go.”

“I won’t.” Michael dipped his forehead to rest on Brian’s upper back. “... never ever... forever ever...”

“I’m counting on it.”

 

**~~TBC...**   



	5. Chapter 5

Michael stood, gazing longingly out the huge picture window in Dr. Damour’s office at his Cancer Center complex. There was a decent view of Pittsburgh that made Michael sentimental about his childhood, how he and Brian once pictured their fair city. He wished for a remote control on Life, able to rewind or fast forward whenever he wanted. Or a simple *Do Over* would make him happy.

“Michael... please... sit down.”

The chocolate eyes picked a portion of the clear blue sky to stare at, his vision blurring by the moisture collecting. “I’m fine.” He had crossed his arms over his chest, hiding shaking hands. He cupped his elbows, hugging into his shivering frame.

“No... you’re not.” The cultured Arabic tone filtered through Michael’s foggy mind. “I need you sitting, so I can look into your face, see your eyes.”

Michael closed them, stepping closer toward the chilled window pane. He leaned his body along the outline, his forehead falling forward to crack on the double-panned glass. Times such as these... he wanted Brian, but the terrible thing about this moment was... Brian was the one who had hurt him. “Well... sorry. I can’t look into yours right now.”

“Michael...” Dr. Damour tried again to attempt to get Michael to sit, even simply looking toward his direction.

Michael could no longer look at the view, it disturbed him. He bowed his head staring down at the tips of his shoes. “I’m used to Brian doing this to me... but I trusted you. I trusted you enough to think you’d tell me anything and everything about Brian’s care.” He shook his head averting his eyes toward a bare wall, littered with a few awards, plaques and photographs. “I guess, when all is said and done... I’m not the one who’s important here. I’m not the one you’re working for, right?” He picked at some imaginary lint on his jeans.

Dr. Damour stood up out of his chair, prepared to walk around his desk. “Michael, in all honesty... Brian is my main concern. HE is the one responsible for his own life. HE decides what’s to be done with the care, whether to live or die.” If Michael wasn’t going to sit, he had figured to move closer, sit on the ledge of his desk. He paused, seeing Michael fidget away from the window.

Michael wiped a hand over his face. Completely drained, he uncrossed his arms. Little did the doctor know how much irony lay in that statement. He left the window sill to pace to one of the set of chairs in front of the dark, cherry wood desk.

Feeling unnerved and a bit vulnerable, Michael was quite winded from Brian’s way of thinking he could keep a major crisis such as he had just learned, from him. That a tumor had been found in one testicle, removed, biopsied, found not to be cancerous and replaced by a synthetic look-a-like.

What did Brian think he was doing by keeping it secret?

“How long?”

Dr. Damour retook his chair. “What do you mean?”

“How long since the surgery itself? How long have you two been keeping this from me?”

“A few months, six at the most. Brian discovered the lump on his own. I do not know if it was around the time that you were away because Brian didn’t say much of where you were, that you were gone for so long. He didn’t see the point of worrying you further.” Dr. Damour hadn’t liked lying to Michael, hated agreeing with his patient’s right to choose how they dealt with certain issues.

Michael sat down... hard. He let out a harsh puff of breath. “We’ve had sex since then. Why didn’t I notice?” He muttered the inquiry to himself, but the office was quiet enough for the doctor to hear.

“Actual penetration or simply oral?”

“Huh?” Michael went flush, his jaw slack. “Wha-?”

Dr. Damour let out a small smirk as he swiped a hand through the air. “I’m not curious to your sex life, I’m asking in the most clinical of ways. After surgery there, of course, would be soreness. That is probably why Brian chose to go ahead with the operation without you being there. Maybe he wanted to be sure that he was fully healed before you came back home.”

“But... I haven’t even noticed any difference...” Michael sighed heavily, shaking his head in wonder. “Aside from his normal aches and pains, the bouts of nausea and vomiting... I never once imagined that anything would be a reaction post-surgery, unless someone told me or I had been here.” He lifted his head to look up, but not at the doctor. “Does that make me utterly obtuse or somewhat of an idiot? That I don’t even pay attention to something that drastic of a change in him?”

“It’s what Brian wanted to happen, Michael. His main concern was that he not appear disfigured or scarred in any way. A plastic surgeon assists whenever that part of the operation occurs, to be assured of minimal scarring.” Dr. Damour pulled his chair up to his desk, folding his hands over the top. “I realize most would imagine a man of Brian’s nature can even be vain about his penis, the look of his scrotum or the shape and mold of each testicle. This occurs more often than you would think.”

Michael covered a hand over each eye in shame. “I can’t believe I’m talking about this with you.”

Dr. Damour chuckled lightly, knowing he was treading on shaky ground with Michael now. “Cancer survivors worry about their sex lives, as well as healthy people, Michael. They and their spouses fear the loss of attraction, the disappearance of sexual drive. Will anything they do help or hinder their healing? Like many of my patients, Brian talked only about you through the whole ordeal.”

“Me? Why?” Michael removed his hands to intently stare at the doctor. “It’s not very comforting to know this, by the way.”

“Yes... you, Michael. To give you a broader example... breast cancer survivors and the removal of the breast or a small tumor in the breast itself left with some marring of the flesh... women, and men, are frightened of being unattractive to their spouse. Will they still be able to feel sexual responses should a hand touch bare skin? Sure there is always a risk of severing nerve endings, desensitizing them after surgery, but in the face of cancer that is malignant and spreading... all that worry flies out the window. There’s nothing different in testicular cancers. It has the highest survival rate, but coupled with what Brian already suffers from... it was better to be safe than sorry.”

“Please... that I completely understand. Brian keeping this from me for so long is what’s bothering me.”

Dr. Damour could sense the anger toward him, as well. “It wasn’t my story to tell, Michael. It’s okay if you want to be angry and upset with me, too.”

Michael shook his head. “I’m not... really. I thought... I thought after all these years together...” He still was confused by Brian’s reasonings. “It’s difficult to fathom that Brian still thinks there’s certain parts of his life that he feels ashamed of, needing to keep hidden from me. Sex was never a major portion of our relationship. It still isn’t, but it’s a nice addition.”

“See... I hoped Brian had already told you by now. I thought you knew.” Placing a hand over his heart, Dr. Damour bowed over his desktop. “I humbly apologize for making you feel like you were wronged.”

Michael shook his head. “But this isn’t your apology to make.” He gave a small, sad smile.

“I feel responsible somehow.” Dr. Damour had to avert his head. “I feel like shit for even mentioning it without checking.” His phone intercom buzzed. “Pardon me.” He pressed a button, picking up a phone line. “Yes?... okay... yes... good... great... certainly. I’ll have him come right over. Yes, thanks for calling me. Goodbye.” He hung up, looking across at Michael. “Brian’s finished with his radiation treatments. They’re getting him dressed now, then they’ll take him into the Chemo IV Therapy treatment rooms.” He stood to walk toward Michael, heading them out into the hallway. “Would you like to sit with him?”

Michael grimaced, his frustration with Brian apparent in his sweet features. “Not right now. I need to see the kids first. Maybe after I think about it.”

Dr. Damour leaned a hip against his desk. “Be gentle with him. I need him healthy by next check-up in three months.”

Michael glanced off in the distance, a small grin filtering through his lips. He could handle Brian with kid gloves, but make him suffer much more worse torture. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m always gentle with him... to his face. I fume when he’s not around, diffuse my emotions. ‘Sides, I can’t hate Brian for too long. Depriving him of anything makes it bad for me, too. My being upset with him doesn’t usually last long, these days. I only have to take one look in his eyes... and I always fall back in love with him, wondering what silly thing pissed me off. This one... might take a while. Things will be fine.”

“This isn’t exactly *silly*, Michael. Despite what Brian is suffering, you DO matter in all this. Denying you the chance to grieve properly doesn’t make things any better.”

“Wasn’t MY testicle to lose.” Michael blurted out before he realized what he said.

Michael and Dr. Damour both paused, turned to look at one another and began softly chuckling at the absurdity of the last statement.

Dr. Damour moved a few items to sit on his desk. “You do know anyone walking into this room, just about now, would have considered us perverts.”

Michael put out hand to dissuade blame. “Look, you’re the one that brought up Brian’s testicles in the first place.” He winked, making the doctor crack-up all the more. He tried to laugh, as well, but found it felt shallow and empty. He was still smarting from being left... in the dark.

Dr. Damour shook his head in awe. “Nobody ever believes me when I tell them about you.” He noticed Michael’s wide eyes of bewilderment. “No, I don’t use specific names. Not only is Brian one of my model patients, you have become somewhat of a inspiration to many of my other patient’s spouses and loved ones. The fact that you two are the best example of how a couple should cope with cancer, makes my work easier. As a gay man, myself, you two make me proud.”

“Thank you.” Michael accepted the compliment. He sometimes forgot the doctor had a social life outside the hospital, in the outskirts of the medicinal world. A private life that remained shrouded in mystery and intrigue. “I’ve never asked you this, but... do you think Jack ever knew about your sexual orientation?”

“What you really want to know is if he refused me because I’m gay, right?”

Michael nodded his head. “Weren’t you ever curious if he knew... even if you never told him?”

“Being a homosexual isn’t a part of my profession. It’s a huge portion of who I am, but nothing to do with my career. I may have become attached to some of my patients, but it’s not gender specific. I treat them like my family. It is the nature of my field. I’ve loved many of my patients even more than my own family and friends.” Dr. Damour figured revealing a bit of his private life might make Michael rethink hating him, maybe simply growing to understand who he was and why he followed his patient’s wishes.

Michael blinked and sighed. He understood what the doctor was admitting to him. It was kind of him to offer the information, but a little too late at this point. “I’m sorry. Every time I ask about Jack, I know you get on the defensive. I don’t mean to bring up a bad part of your past. I just... sometimes, I’m never sure exactly which way Brian will swing his moods when his cancer comes back into our lives. Continually bringing up the awful memories of his father and his childhood.” He shut his eyes, tucking his hands between his knees. “I have to believe that he’s working off past demons when he does stuff like this to me. I can’t let it overpower my self-esteem and make me wonder if he still wants to be with me... and simply give up. I know he loves me, I do. But when he keeps important shit like this from me...” He lifted his eyes to glance at the doctor. “... it doesn’t help the hurt any.”

Dr. Damour nodded his head. Christ! And Brian had to live with this sweetheart of a man. He hated having participated in cracking a piece of Michael’s trust and respect away. “Jack is not far from my mind, just like he’s forefront in Brian’s. I made Brian promise to keep me on my toes whenever I treat him. Never let me scrimp on his care, to try and find new ways to combat his ills. He hasn’t let me down since.” He let out a slow smile. He was going to say more, but thought not. Michael was already anxious as it was. “Know that, above all else, Brian wants to survive.”

Michael snickered through his nostrils, sitting back in his seat. “You’re the second person to tell me that today.”

“Believe in it.”

Michael placed his forearm on the armrest, running fingers through his already mussed hair. “I’ve never given up on him... once. I won’t give up on him... ever.” He chuckled at his own thoughts running through his mind. “For some reason, that fact has never been more glaringly obvious than right this minute. But you have to know... the irony is astounding.”

“How so?” Dr. Damour didn’t want to seem forward, being nosy, but he truly wanted to know what Michael meant. “You don’t have to answer me if you don’t want.”

Michael shrugged, once thinking that everyone they knew... had heard about their story, Brian’s past and what it had taken for both of them to get to this point in their lives, together. “It isn’t anything people couldn’t figure out on their own, once you understand Brian’s past. Always a risk taker, needing to be in control of his destiny. Continually desiring to be far away from his home life and Jack Kinney that when it was accomplished, Brian wanted to be better than his Old Man. Out do his worst critic, the man with the oppressive thumb. Since we met there was always an element of *danger and excitement* in whatever Brian did, then involved me in on.”

Dr. Damour glanced out his window. “And you were his calm in the storm... his safe island in the raging sea.”

“Aptly put, Doc.” Michael teased as he stared intently toward Brian’s doctor. He liked it when no explanations were needed to further carry out he and Brian’s story.

“Nashir.” Dr. Damour mumbled under his breath, his coal black lashes blinking once. He looked over at Michael’s eyes gazing directly at him.

“What?” Michael was confused.

“My name... is Nashir. Only a few close friends call me, ‘Nash’.”

Michael sat up, bending his head. He felt his skin flush at the vulnerability he was witnessing. Something he knew that Brian must have cracked open long ago in his care with the doctor. He never imagined that their relationship could have matured on some level of *brotherhood*. Maybe that’s why Brian felt comfortable keeping his secret only with his doctor, fearing nobody else, even Michael, would understand his warped thoughts. Validate his worries and his reasonings.

Dr. Damour was certainly attractive. The dark Arabic beauty enchanting for a man of his humbleness.

Michael wasn’t attracted, but could recognize a good-looking man when he saw one. If Brian was his old self... the doctor would have been someone he would have fucked in Babylon’s backroom and had his fill of years ago. With years gone by and circumstances changed, Brian had kept the handsome doctor at a distance. Michael would love for it to have been because Brian loved him and didn’t want to ruin their relationship, but somehow... he felt it was more for Brian’s own test against himself. To see if he was purely a sexual being or as normal as anybody in the world, gay or straight. He would keep this information to himself and question Brian later.

“I... uh, don’t really know how to explain Brian’s Dance with Death. I only know he’d never admit it exists. I wouldn’t call him suicidal, but...”

“Borderline death seeker, not enough to truly follow through on the dare.” Dr. Damour supplied the rest of the comment.

Michael scrunched his brow in thought. “Did I already tell you this story?”

“No. I had my own *Brian* in my early years of medical schooling. Mine was a little more lethal. We were interning in these war torn countries, claiming to be seeing the world with fresh new eyes. Waving our proud American flags for freedom and supplying them with free healthcare and our radical thoughts on anarchic thoughts. Only... bullets were flying over our heads as religious wars raged on. We entered too many refugee camps, putting our very necks at risk. Rebels thought we were choosing sides against the tyrannical government we were living under, leaving our throats open to be cut during the nights as we slept. So you learn to train your body NOT to want sleep and be on alert... which explains why I can be on call for seventy-two hours straight and never look like I’ve lost one second of sleep.”

Michael was flabbergasted by the story. “What happened to him?”

“Kidnapped from our camp one night, while I was in assisting surgery.”

Michael waited for an ending. “Did he...?”

Dr. Damour folded his hands over his lap, twiddling his thumbs. “*I* am much like you, Michael. I have never given up hope, either.” He lifted his eyes to catch the look of sadness he didn’t want from Michael. He didn’t want anyone’s pity, but considering who the feeling was coming from... it was allowed this time.

“How long?”

“Going on nineteen years in a few months.”

Michael blanched, pulling his arms over his chest, huddling into himself for ease and comfort. “Do you even know if he’s alive?”

“I want him to be alive... safe, if anything. Away from any kind of prison or jail. There was never enough time for me to search for him on my own. My own life was put in danger, yet I was never that brave... like he was. He wasn’t important enough to matter to the American Embassy. Kidnappings happen on a regular basis in those types of countries. Regular Joes go missing every single day, what’s one more added to their list?” Dr. Damour shrugged, finally feeling comfortable in his skin to reveal more than he usually did. He had to, in order for Michael to realize he was going to allow him one step closer to Brian’s care. No more lies. “I would have been comforted to know that he would’ve picked me over his career, but I could never compete. He loved a fight and he was passionate about what he believed in. You want a cause to battle for, he would find you one... and it would possibly be to the death.”

“What about now? Your life has changed drastically hasn’t it?”

“If he is alive and cannot be with me, I wish him peace and happiness. If he is alive and chooses not to be with me, then I can only wish him the best life he can achieve. If he is dead and has been for many years... then...” Dr. Damour had to stop speaking. As if the very lifeforce of HIS *Brian* couldn’t be destroyed easily. If so... the world was a very scary place.

Michael was speechless and a bit dumbfounded. “Shit! You make my troubles pale in comparison.”

Dr. Damour smirked, shaking his head. “No... not really, Michael. Circumstances might be different, but the principal is the same. I never knew when he’d put his life at risk for complete strangers in a foreign unknown country... and you sit around in fear for the day *cancer* may take Brian. I see no difference.”

Michael rubbed a hand over his brow, scraping down the lower half of his face. “Equating my grief with yours seems insignificant. I have Brian by my side and you...”

Dr. Damour shrugged at Michael’s meaning. “Sometimes I wonder, as I treat patients and am able to talk openly with their loved ones... if things wouldn’t be more conducive to everyone’s sanity if spouses and family weren’t part of the program. That they wouldn’t have to watch someone slowly dying being taken from them without being able to help except in comfort. Is it more painful, or stressful, to see all this... effecting Brian, having to comfort him and sometimes feeling like you’re being shoved out the door? Which would you prefer?”

Michael didn’t even have to put much thought into his answer. “I wanna be with Brian, no doubt. At any cost to my sanity.”

Dr. Damour slid off his desktop. “Then let me not keep you away longer than you’ve been. You ready to see him, now?”

Michael stood, opened his mouth to accept the quick offer, but realized he did have something else to do before seeing Brian. “No. Take your time with him. I’m going to talk with Gus, get him to take the kids home and start supper.”

Dr. Damour walked to open his office door, waving Michael through first. “Then by all means, let’s go.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Chemo nurse on staff, Leslie, exited the private room wing of the I.V. therapy ward. She scribbled information down on her clipboard, closing the patient file to place in the bin near the door.

“Good Afternoon, Leslie.” The caramel hand reached over Leslie’s unsuspecting body to pick up the chart.

Leslie was spooked, never hearing the soft footfalls of her employer. “Oh, my! How do you manage to always do that?” She placed a tender hand to her chest.

Dr. Damour chuckled as he flipped open the patient’s file. “How is Mr. Kinney today?” He tugged a pen out of his pocket, clicking the inkwell to work.

“Good, but grumpy. Normal for him.” Leslie glanced up and down the corridor. “I promised him that you’d be bringing Michael with you. Where is he?”

“Taking care of the children. He was with me. He knew I would need some time to talk with Brian. Update him on his test results and some other things.” Dr. Damour didn’t think Leslie would care about the *other things*. “Michael’s willing to wait until I’m done. So try to keep him entertained once he returns.”

“Sure. Uh...” Leslie licked her dry lips and swallowed. She formulated in her mind the patient report up until now. “We started the infusion about 30minutes ago. Give or take how fast Brian’s body can withstand the drip rate, I say... another hour and a half for the medicine to be fully infused. I had adjusted the rate from the last time since many of the other patients on this med have claimed that it burns at the needle site.” She rolled her eyes, placing a calm hand on Dr. Damour’s forearm. “You know Brian doesn’t complain about much, so I had to use my other senses to determine if he was bullshitting me or not.”

Dr. Damour snickered, shaking his head. “Thanks, Leslie.” He knocked on the wood paneling, his hand moving toward the knob.

“You’re welcome.” Leslie smiled, turning away to walk down the hall to the next private room set up.

“Hold on!” The voice huffed out in eagerness. Some shuffling of clothing could be deciphered, the clang of metal from a belt, some change in the pockets.

Dr. Damour opened the door slightly, only so he could speak through the slit. “Brian... it’s only me.” He braced himself for the disappointed grumbling he expected.

All that was heard was a soft... “Oh... okay... come in, Doc.” Brian finished doing up his jeans, wiggling about so they fell on his hip bones perfectly, hanging loosely. He tucked his tank-Tee in one-handed. His right hand was being used now for filtering his chemo medication in his body. “Thought you might be Michael... or at the very least have brought him with you.” He grinned sheepishly, ready to go home, jump into their bed and finally have some peace and rest for a few more months.

Dr. Damour carried Brian’s file with him as he brought over a chair. “You are going to Thank God I wasn’t him.” He laughed out in a huff. He took his seat, crossing one leg over his knee.

Brian strolled around the end of the bed, dragging his I.V. pole with him. He looped the tubing about his hand so it wouldn’t tangle. “Uh, oh... sounds like I’m in some sort of trouble.”

“We need to talk, Brian.”

Those words had been said too many times.

Brian noticed a serious face when he saw one. “Is Michael okay?” Dr. Damour couldn’t even look at him as he wrote in the file. All he did was nod his head slowly. “Will it help any if I start off with an apology?”

Dr. Damour clicked his pen, tucking it back in his pocket. “Brian...” He finally gazed toward Brian. “... I’m afraid you’d be apologizing to the wrong person.”

Brian flinched back. “Whoa! Oh... alright.” He hefted his butt to sit on the side of the bed, letting his socked feet dangle. He gripped the steel rod of his I.V. pole like the shape was a safety net. “I’m listening, Doc.”

“I sure hope you do, Brian, I really hope you do.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael was already waiting in the hall, leaning back along the plaster. He was a few steps down from Brian’s room.

Dr. Damour placed the chart back in the metal bin. “You could have knocked and come in.”

Michael shrugged, not feeling friendly at the moment. Even with the doctor opening up like he did. He had time enough to recharge his anger. “I didn’t want to be a bother. Like you said... I’m not the patient, you’re not my doctor and Brian does have rights separate from mine.” He tried to stare off down the long corridor. “This music you have pumping through the speakers is nice... tranquil, but not sleep-inducing.” He wanted to change the subject.

Dr. Damour stopped in front of Michael. “You know I didn’t mean that like it sounded in my office, Michael?”

“Did I?” Michael gave a sad smile.

“You ARE as much a part of Brian’s healing process as I am, with the treatments and medicines.”

“Really?” Michael raised a curious eyebrow. “How can I be any help whatsoever if I don’t even know the full extent of what’s going on?”

Dr. Damour sighed, his shoulders hunched a little. More time needed to pass before forgiveness could be given. He understood, but wished things could be different. “You're still angry.”

“Oh... yeah. I think I’m entitled.” Michael crossed arms over his chest. “Don’t be scared. Brian is safe in my hands. He’ll be fine by the next check-up.” He pushed off the wall to walked around the doctor. He reached Brian’s door without making any contact with the doctor.

“And you?” Dr. Damour swiveled to look at Michael.

“And me... what?”

“Will you still come to Brian’s appointments?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I? If he wants me there, sure. If he doesn’t... you both can be assured I can stay home and eat my bon-bons, take care of the kids, cook and do laundry like the good little wife I am.”

“Michael...” Dr. Damour attempted to put out a hand to stop Michael from leaving him.

Michael had swiftly opened the door, entered in a flash and softly closed the paneling.

Dr. Damour hung his head, hunched his shoulders more and scraped a nervous palm over the back of his neck. “Well... shit...” He closed his eyes in sorrow, feeling the tears gathered unexpectedly.

Breaking the rules just this once would have seemed better in hindsight, to lessen the hurt Michael was feeling right now. Sometimes even doing the right things seemed wrong.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Brian?” Michael called out from the dimly lit room. He knew the mood lighting was more to make it comfortable for Brian to sleep in, but when he couldn’t see Brian... it frightened him a little. He heard the toilet flush, a hacking cough and then the water running in the sink.

The noises were coming from inside the closed door of the bathroom.

Michael slid his jacket off, throwing it off to land on a chair sitting in the middle of the floor. Must have been where the Good Doc sat. He noticed the I.V. pole outside the bathroom on it’s own. The wheels rolled from the tubing being tugged, back-n-forth.

“BRIAN!?” Michael yelled out again, in case Brian had worked himself into unconsciousness. He saw a placement of a glass, an ice pitcher and arrays of sodas on a small dinette table. “Are you...?” He tried to peek in between the slit in the door of the bathroom. He saw movement and sighed in relief. He opened a can of ginger ale, clawing out a few pieces of ice, placing them in the glass and carrying the glass with him. He wandered to the half-open door, pushing it further open by knocking. He caught sight of Brian, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, bent over, keeping his perspiring forehead on the cool tile of the sink. He leaned his hip against the doorjamb. “Hey... Handsome, you come here often? Would you care to share a sip of my drink?” He winked when Brian glanced up at him, under dark brown eyelashes. He poured the fizzy liquid, took a sip and then passed the glass to Brian’s shaking hand. Walking further in, he helped Brian bring the glass to his mouth.

Brian drank as if he had crawled across the Sahara. “Ahhh... yesss. That... was refreshing.” His left hand reached out to drag Michael closer, resting his face against the flat belly. His fingers gripped tightly onto Michael’s loose clothing. “I should never have let you go this morning.”

Michael didn’t want to, but he set his hand on Brian’s shorn hair, combing his fingers through the messy bedhead. “How many times?”

“Twice. Just hit me when the Doc left.” Brian gave Michael back the empty glass. “Next time... make it a double.” He teased as he gestured to the half-filled soda can.

Michael emptied the can into the glass, handing it to Brian again. He crushed the aluminum in his hands, throwing it in the garbage pail. He worked his body from Brian's grasp to rest his pelvis on the sink ledge. He turned on the faucet, running cold water. He twisted around to find a washcloth and a small handtowel on the linen shelves behind him. He dipped his hand under the water to check how icy it was becoming.

“Michael...” Brian tried to touch Michael’s hip, but he moved too quick out of reach. Brian brought his hand back to his side, reaching up to scratch at his face.

“Feel like you might be sick again?” Michael asked as if trained well to follow commands.

“Nah.” Brian second the answer with the shake of his head. “I haven’t eaten much in days to really upchuck anything but vital organs. Mich-...”

Michael backed up out of the bathroom. He was situating the I.V. pole to set between him and Brian on the trek back to the bed. “Come on... I help you walk back.” He kindly offered his elbow for Brian to use as balance.

Brian stared in shocked wonder. Dr. Damour had been right, as usual. Michael was deeply hurt. Fuck! He let Michael drive the pole, but cuddled the glass close to his chest. He hated the intentional silence Michael was allowing to happen. “Isn’t this thing cool?” He bent to caress the recliner bed that filled up most of the room. “Doc said he find the number of the place I can get one for home. He said they’re expensive, though.”

“I’m sure you can afford one.” Michael let Brian twirl around to sit down on the edge of the plush cushions. His fingers in the tight handgrip of Brian’s, settling him down carefully. He meant to pull away, but Brian tugged him near.

Brian’s hazel eyes frantically searched for answers in the openly vulnerable chocolate ones. “I was hoping...” He quickly latched an arm about Michael’s waist. “... if I made a big enough stink about one, you’d take the subtle hint to this year’s Christmas present for me.” He leaned up to kiss Michael’s lips, but got the sharp jawline instead. “Mikey?”

“Maybe.” Michael patted his palm on Brian’s chest, drawing away as he fixed the tubing just right, then worked the I.V. pole into a perfect niche at the head of the bed. He was trying to keep busy with other things to avoid Brian.

Brian snatched Michael’s fingers before he could zoom on by. “Hey... come on... what...?”

“What?” Michael titled his head to look down at Brian’s face, hating himself for feeling this way and acting out of spite.

“We... okay?” Brian asked in befuddlement, not understanding fully what might be happening.

**~~TBC...**


	6. Chapter 6

Michael almost lost it. “Why wouldn’t we be?” He took his hand back, dropping his eyes.

“Michael, you’re a bit...” Brian almost became defensive and frustrated himself. If there was a problem why didn’t Michael feel like coming out and discussing things.

“Can you hold that criticism about me for a second? I still have water running. This visit is expensive enough. I don’t need a city water bill added to the cost.” Michael stomped off a complete wreck underneath the surface.

Brian let Michael slip away, but he closely watched his actions. Once the water was shut off, Brian began to question Michael. “Have I upset you in some way?” Why wouldn't he simply say what was on his mind?

“How so?” Michael yelled back.

Brian sighed in annoyance. “Stop answering me with sarcastic questions of your own.”

Michael stood outside the bathroom door, wiping his hands on a dry towel. “Then stop asking me what you already know.” He stepped back inside.

“Well... at least I now know you ARE upset with me.” Brian muttered, wishing the medicines hadn’t taken away his keen sense of Michael these days. That was one of the many losses he had sacrificed for the greater good.

Michael didn’t reply. He shut off the bathroom light, leaving the door ajar. He carried the washcloth and handtowel, both wet, over to Brian. “Climb in and lay down.” He kicked Brian’s feet to move or these cold cloths would grow warm. Brian silently obeyed, but he wouldn’t like it. The washcloth went over Brian’s forehead, the rolled handtowel went around the back of Brian’s neck, pillowing the muscles and tendons. “How’s that feel?” He reached down to the end of the bed to bring up the blankets to cover Brian’s lower body, up to the waist.

“I’d be even better...” Brian pulled back a corner of the sheets. “... if you got in next to me.”

Michael bit at his top lip, closing his eyes in sadness. “Not right now.” He couldn’t give in that easily. No matter how needy Brian looked or how much Michael ached to be near him... the temptation to fold had to be resisted.

“Am I being punished?” Brian threw the covers on again, folding his hands over his abdomen. “Am I on some kind of probation or something? Grounded... just like one of the kids?”

There was a chair right beside the bed, but Michael moved it, scooting it quite a distance, near the footboard. “Well, what do you think you could have done to deserve such wretched, unfair treatment?” He plopped down into the chair.

“The Doc mentioned something you two talked about.” Brian stared at Michael, wanting him just to come right out and cuss him until he was red in the face. Sometimes Michael wouldn’t even look directly at him.

“What did he say?” Michael glanced away, crossing one arm over his chest.

“That something was blurted out by mistake... some news that you and I might not have had a chance to discuss, yet.”

“When?” Michael was finally able to gaze intently at Brian, not willing to waver once he got him talking.

“When what?” Brian felt confused now and Michael wasn’t being any help to him.

“When would you have told me? Or did you hope it was something you could simply hide under the rug?” Michael had to clear his throat of the thickness growing from hurt emotions. “Did you even want me finding out?” His voice was so soft, even he could barely hear himself.

Now Brian was the one who couldn’t look at Michael... or be honest. He knew he’d cause further hurt than Michael was facing now. His left hand bunched into a fist. He tried to soothe the cramping generating in the depths of his belly.

“It’s okay to be blatantly honest with me. I can take a few verbal jabs.” Michael recognized the action Brian normally made when his stomach ached or cramps were starting to radiate. He knew what should be done, despite the frustrations with Brian and the private choices Brian was making without him. He push up from the chair, handing Brian the glass of ginger ale they placed on the night stand. “Here... drink.” He yanked down the blankets, unsnapped Brian’s loose jeans and pulled up the cotton shirt a bit toward mid-torso. He rubbed his palms together to warm them, blowing on them with his hot breath.

“I don’t want you touching me if you can’t stand to be near me.” Brian pouted and mumbled roughly, taking gulp of soda and resting back with his eyes closed.

“I’m not scared of you.” Michael muttered as he placed his hands on Brian’s flat, sunken abdomen. “Where does it hurt most?” He could sense Brian’s skin becoming sensitive to his light touch. The belly flinched, up-n-down, sucking in air.

At first, Brian was going to refuse to say anything and let Michael do whatever he wanted, but he decided not to be such a brat. Sighing heavily, Brian gripped Michael’s wrist with his fingers, guiding him more toward the left side. “Right... here... is good.” His fingers lingered on the naked wrist, tenderly petting the back of Michael’s hand in thanks. “You can start there.”

Michael sucked in a breath as he let Brian’s touch linger, knowing Brian wanted to caress up his bare forearm. “Tell me when to stop... or when you feel like you might need to spew...” He kicked over the tiny wicker garbage basket with his foot.

Brian muffled his chuckle, resting the glass on his chest, then brought his I.V. arm to lay over his face. He had to hide his tears somehow.

Michael palpated the left side as much as he could without causing more harm, having learned professional massage techniques to quell the aches and pains of Brian’s body when the side effects of the meds hit him. He brought the trail up around Brian’s belly button, paying attention to only place the gentlest of pressure over the stomach. He ended the massage on the right side, mimicking the same touches he had done on the left. He pulled the shirt back down and snapped the jeans closed.

Michael only took a step back.

Brian threw the washcloth at him. “This isn’t cold anymore!” He quietly barked out.

Michael managed to catch the flimsy material. He wished he could scream, tell Brian *Fuck You!* and storm out in very childish manner. But he was learning to be better than his own emotions, because Brian’s were constantly changing. He, also, knew he wasn’t helping any. “Pardon me, then.” He had to leave to regroup or lose his calm.

Michael walked to the bathroom, quickly turning on the faucet and plopping the washcloth in the sink. He made sure he took longer than normal to complete this simple task. When he finally came out... the nurse was taking her half-hour vital sings.

“Hi, Michael.” Leslie mouthed quietly. She put a finger to her lips, pointing out that Brian was asleep. “Can I get you anything?”

Michael shook his head, smiling. When he came toward Brian, he noted Leslie had lifted the rails up to protect her sleeping patient from falling or hurting himself. He solemnly wander closer to place the washcloth on Brian’s forehead. He stood, hovering needlessly above Brian. He was so frenzied inside, having been prepared for a verbal battle of words with Brian. But watching him now, in a peaceful rest of some kind, knocked Michael off his high horse.

Leslie glanced down at her wrist watch, jotting notes on her clipboard. “Another hour for the infusion to finish. The medication usually calls for a hour-n-a-half to two hour recovery time. Dr. Damour likes the max... and then some.”

Michael’s hands gripped the railing, wanting desperately to hold Brian. Making apologies that weren’t his to make. Beg forgiveness for causing hurt that he didn’t cause. Only because he didn’t know how many tomorrows were given to him to keep Brian by his side. He pushed off to walk over and bring the chair back to the bedside. “Brian vomited twice after Dr. Damour had left him.”

Leslie nodded, flipping pages back to write the bodily output numbers and common side effect reaction in her nurse’s notes. “A common side effect from this chemo med. You didn’t see any blood tinged mucus, stomach contents or clots?”

Michael made a nasty face at the image in his head. “No.” He used his foot to bring the chair closer to him as he sat near Brian on the bed. He searched for Brian’s right hand with the I.V. tubing. “He flushed before I came in. He didn’t say there was blood, just that there wasn’t much in the bowl.”

“Probably dry heaves.” Leslie nodded, writing more information.

Michael reached in between the railing to soothe Brian’s belly over the blankets. “He's cramping in his stomach and abdominal area.” His palm lay flat to rub the sore spots.

“Another normal side effect, as well.” Leslie was tabulating everything on her sheet.

“Anything else I should be aware of?” Michael already knew a majority of chemo med side effects. He only wanted to be aware of what could possibly happen to Brian if he was having a bad reaction.

Leslie grinned, looking up. “Weak, tired and listless.”

Michael had to chuckle. Brian was obviously ALL three.

“Much like the last infusion therapy... in a nutshell.”

“That’s a good description. Thanks, Leslie.”

“Sure I can’t interest you in a sandwich and some chips? A light salad just to tide over an empty stomach?” Leslie wasn’t sure Michael knew how long of a wait they still had. He surely couldn’t sustain himself on nothing.

Michael shook his head to decline the offer. “I’m afraid I must osmosis-ize Brian’s upset stomach during these things. I’ve been kinda nauseous since breakfast. Nothing serious, only nerves and loving worry.”

“Call me if either of you need anything.” Leslie looked up at the wall clock. “I will be back in thirty-five to forty minutes.” She was gone as quickly, and as quietly, as she had come in.

Michael waited a bit before he lowered the bedside railing. He stood, making sure the washcloth and the handtowel had remained cold. Brian wasn’t showing signs of fever, just intense heat from his skin. He scraped the back of his hand down the side of Brian’s face, checking for early fever symptoms. There was only a normal flush to the color.

Leslie had almost completely covered Brian with the blankets, tugging them to his shoulders.

Brian’s head was averted, loping off to his left.

Michael effortlessly yanked them back down. He warmed his palms again, placing one hand on the right, the other on the left. Knowing his touch soothed Brian, even in sleep, Michael continued to massage the exposed abdominal area. He could tell by Brian’s grimaces, that resting alone wasn’t doing him any favors in taking away pain.

Seated on the bed, leaning his right hip on Brian, Michael stared down the familiar belly noticing the tender, reddened areas from today’s surgery. He sniffled once, wiped under his nose and looked away. When he turned his head back, he bent to press a gentle kiss to the belly button. As if he was tending to one of the children’s boo-boos or a knee scrape.

Michael’s hands paused, he kept his face near the heated flesh, turning to lay his cheek on the pliable surface. He attempted to control his breathing and overflowing emotional state... but not succeeding.

Didn’t take Michael long to lose that battle within himself and crumble on top of Brian’s slumbering form.

Brian was startled awake by the sounds of sobbing. He thought they were his own, since they mirrored his pain and heartache. He blinked his eyes to stare up at the ceiling, trying to orient himself back to the room. He lifted his head, slightly to gaze down at the dark head on his stomach.

Knowing that it was Michael... finally breaking apart... broke him. Two lone tears fell out of the corner of his eyes, dripping toward his hairline.

“Fuck... Michael...” Brian wasn’t feeling strong enough to drag Michael into the bed. He could barely even tug on the tight Tee Michael was wearing. “Come here.” He tried to say through his jumbled feelings. He weakly patted his chest. “Come on... lay on me...” Even his jaw felt exhausted, like he’d been chattering away for hours.

“Asshole.” Michael grumbled through his messy tears.

“I know... climb on top of me. I like...” Brian waited for Michael to bring his legs up so they could situate him. “... feeling your weight on me.” Which was surprisingly true. Michael wasn’t heavy, his weight seemed to place the correct pressure needed, at times, to alleviate Brian’s pain.

“Prick.” Michael kicked off his shoes, hurriedly tucking his socked feet and legs under the covers, silently complying with Brian’s wishes.

“I know...” Brian mumbled, making sure Michael would fit with him in the bed. If so, Brian was going to call the salesman tomorrow morning, after a good night of sleep.

Michael’s whole body aligned with Brian’s and his legs tangled, one in between Brian’s thighs and one on the outside of his left leg. Brian drew his right leg up to hook around the crook of Michael’s knee. Michael buried his face in the curve of shoulder and neck. He removed the wet towel from behind Brian’s head, securely tucking a second pillow there to replace the loss.

Brian threw out the washcloth, as well. He didn’t need the cold any longer. Now, he wanted warmth... preferably Michael’s. Threading his fingers up the back of Michael’s head, he twirled the ebony locks and soothed the scalp. If Michael didn’t stop crying, he’d work himself into a freaking migraine. Brian wanted to prevent that as soon as possible.

Even if it meant Brian had to swallow his pride and admit he’d been wrong.

Brian cradled Michael close, whispering endearments and loving words low in his ear. He pressed his lips to Michael’s skin, humming against the bare flesh. He knew Michael needed a release on his grief and knew HE was the only person who Michael wanted comfort from and with.

Michael calmed down, hiccuping less. He brought up a hand to lay over Brian’s steadily beating heart. Not before he had reached up to find a similar wetness on Brian’s face. He closed his eyes in silent agony.

Their heartbreak a shared emotion.

Brian grabbed for the lose, wayward hand on his chest. He shut his lids, swallowing with some difficulty. “I was in the shower, getting ready to start a normal day. I had one of those good dreams about us the night before. Woke up hugging your pillows again... sporting some major woody action. So I only meant to finish what was started under the noise of the running water.”

Michael felt his hand, in Brian’s clasp, being led down beneath the blankets. He didn't open his eyes. The sweet misery of knowing how difficult this was for Brian... distressed him.

Whenever Brian discovered pain, he dealt with the situation, taking any measure to rid it from him and then he placed it in the back of his mind. He didn’t like rehashing old wounds.

Brian steered Michael’s hand along a recognizable trail. The motion was supposed to be as non-sexual as a hospital setting would make anything, but it was the frazzled, heightened emotions, the mere touch of their combined skins through the silky pubic hair and low to the scrotal sac, that led them to be unbalanced.

Brian released Michael’s hand, leaving the fingers laying cupped about the oval shapes of his testicles. “I felt the lump here.” *Here* turned out to be where the silicone implant had been surgically inserted. The shape was no different, even the feel was similar. “There’s a tiny scar... just... to the left...” He felt Michael’s fingers walk a path, he nudged his face into Michael’s hair.

This wasn’t the time or place to be getting *serviced* by his partner... but sometimes Brian was willing to go the extra mile to make his points.

Michael never once opened his eyes. He flipped his head to face the wall, in the opposite direction. When he moved his fingers, he could feel the tiny ridges of cut tissue.

Brian’s hand lay flat on his chest. He was leaving Michael to his own devices, allowing him to keep his warm hand there, letting the fingers play around if they wanted. Sadly, Michael only pulled his hand away enough to move to rest on the semi-hard cock, the fingertips combing through the pubic hair.

Michael brought his face back up, sniffling. “I’m not jerking you off or giving you a blowjob to make it right between us.” As he turned his head, he snuggled and kissed the bare collarbone. “No matter how rock hard you get... or how much love I feel for you... I’m not giving in to you.” He swallowed, knowing his next words would wound him and Brian. “You hurt me.”

“I know.” Brian only held Michael closer, wrapping his arms about the tiny body.

“You... and Dr. Damour... made me feel unbelievably foolish and stupid.”

“I know it’s too late to say I’m sorry... but I am.”

“Fuck!” Michael tried to bury his head again. His knee pushed up as if he was trying to stomp his foot in mild frustration.

Brian quickly pulled away by the explicative coming from Michael’s mouth. He thought something was truly wrong. But as he titled his head back to look at Michael... he saw the little grin slipping out. “Holy... shit...”

“Shut. Up.” Michael tenderly pushed Brian.

“You love me.” Brian couldn’t stop the smiles from overtaking his face.

Michael rolled his eyes. He shoved a parental index finger in Brian’s face. “Don’t... abuse it. You know I can’t help it.”

Brian pretended like he zipped his lips, then he puckered them for a kiss. “Come on... you know you wanna...” He gently teased as his hands moved to tickle.

Michael complied, not regretting the move because he’d been wanting to kiss Brian for a very long time. Lips pressed on lips, but Michael scrunched his face up in ecstasy when Brian drew up his left leg and rubbed his groin. “Don’t...” He sucked a breath and tried not to wince.

Brian’s eyes widened. “You’re hard.”

“So!”

“Mikey...”

Michael pressed a longer liplock on Brian’s mouth to quiet him. He pulled his body up, removing his hand from inside Brian’s jeans to raise over Brian. He was pushing him down to the surface of the bed recliner. He yanked Brian’s hands down to cup his ass and he didn’t have to tell Brian what to do. He arched his neck at the aching pleasure that filled him. His hands reached above Brian’s head to latch onto the top of the bed recliner’s cushions.

Michael was moving his legs to straddle Brian. His hand filtered down between them to grab the hem of the Tank-Tee. “We gotta get one of these, Brian. For home...”

Brian kept one arm about Michael, lifting up his torso when he felt strength re-enter his body. “I was thinking the same exact thing.” He was working his hands to undo Michael’s jeans.

The heart monitor increased in the background, picking up Brian’s excitement.

“Shit!” Brian breathed out in frustration, letting his head lull back to hear his own heart rate jump up and down.

Michael wiped his mouth. “They’re gonna notice.”

Brian looked down at his chest. “Which one is it?” He tried to see if any of the wires connected to his body said, *heart*, so he could take it off.

“No...” Michael stopped Brian. “Don’t. You’ll go flatline and then all of the staff will be in here. Just...” He showed Brian how they were going to breathe deeply, in-n-out.

Brian attempted to follow, but whenever he watched Michael sit over him... he was always ready for more, not less. “You look... fuckin’ sexy...”

“Really?” Michael kept over exaggerating his breathing to show as an example to what Brian should be doing. He quirked an eyebrow in curiosity. “Wouldn’t you think, now that we're older... more mature... we’d have gotten over this stage?”

“I hope we never do.” Brian heard his heart step back into a calm rhythm. He knew it had everything to do with Michael’s hands soothing down his biceps and chest. His breathing under control, Brian felt the first wave of another round of nausea hit him. “Michael...”

Even in the dark, Michael noticed the paleness of Brian’s skin. “Oh, sweetie...” Running a caress behind Brian’s head, he jumped down off the bed. He knew the bathroom was too far for them. He brought over the trash can lined with a plastic garbage bag. He picked up the washcloth and handtowel from the floor. He ran the cold water again, throwing the dirty material in a basket. He’d get new ones from the shelves.

Brian bent over the bedside, dry heaving into the tiny basket. Every once and awhile he’d lay back and moan. “Oh... shit...” A fist plastered to his abdomen, he tried to ease some of his discomfort. He worked his body upright.

“Brian... what are you...?” Michael had thought Brian might be falling, so he stood outside the bathroom.

“I wanna sit on the floor, if that’s okay with you. This... can is too small. ‘Fraid I might miss my aim.” While Michael went back into the bathroom to turn of the water and bring out the cool towels, Brian did just as he said he would, sliding down off the bed on to the floor. He wasn’t too high up on the bed recliner to fall.

Michael wandered out, heading toward the soda cans, forgoing the glass. Even lukewarm ginger ale would help. He stood above Brian’s slumped body. “You don’t look very comfortable.” He wanted to laugh. Brian was hugging the trash can to his side like a child would his favorite teddybear. He sent down the soda can, then proceeded to sit beside Brian’s splayed legs. He passed Brian the neck roll of the cold handtowel. Then the washcloth which he placed on Brian himself, crawling as close as Brian would let him. He sweetly petted the face he had adored for years and would still go on adoring into infinity and beyond.

Michael climbed to his knees to reach for a pillow, at least to set behind Brian’s back. “Is that good?”

“Great.” Brian latched onto one of Michael’s hands. “Hey... now’s a good time to talk.” He tried to joke and laugh despite the awkward situation.

“Brian...” Michael stretched out the name to mean, *not now*. But then he watched the change in Brian. The way his breathing labored, the way his face grimaced with another wave of pain and aches. The way the hazel eyes rolled into the back of Brian’s head in utter exhaustion. Michael's watery eyes started, one tear dropping as he dipped to kiss Brian’s cheek. “I love you. I can never hate you. Ever.”

“I know, Michael.” Brian used Michael’s grip to rearrange his body so he wasn’t laying so crooked. His limp hand came out to touch Michael’s tear-stained face. “I keep losing myself...”

Michael wondered if this chemo drug made people less lucid. “What... Brian... you’re not...?”

Brian was blinking slowly as he talked, he tugged the trash can closer... just in case. “Bits and pieces of me.” He slowly shook his head, his mind a jumble of crazy thoughts. “If you’re not around... I don’t know what to do... I make a mess no matter what I decide.” He chuckled at his own fallacies. “I never claimed to be perfect, but at least no one can say I didn’t try, huh?" He snickered, almost hurting himself.

“Baby... no...” Michael moved to sit the same way Brian was and cuddle him close under his arm. An arm about his shoulders, his chin on top of Brian’s head. His other hand went to cover Brian’s on his stomach, threading their fingers. He wanted to desperately channel Brian’s pain as his own. He brushed back the spikey bangs from the sweaty forehead. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t know who I am anymore, Michael.” Brian freely admitted, feeling wide open and vulnerable at the moment. He knew he was warm and safe in the arms that were holding him. Here, in Michael’s embrace, he could be who he really was... damaged and broken, mostly fixable. “Every step I take to survive seems like another step into falling apart.” He pushed his face into Michael’s neck, feeling the tears drop on his face.

Michael closed his eyes, pressing a kiss to the exposed forehead. He knew he was getting an unadulterated view of Brian Kinney that nobody else would get to see. He treasured these moments... for always. “This last bout with the cancer... was it some step to remain normal?”

“Yes. I don’t like you thinking I’m no good.” Brian knew Michael would never think of him in that way, but he never could be sure. “I know you’d never do that, but something in my mind always triggers the opposite reaction. I had to do it, so you’d still love me... the way I was and would never be...”

“Oh... Jesus...” Michael covered a hand over his face. Brian hadn’t apologized like he wanted, but the explanation for why he did it... made perfect sense. Michael understood Brian’s way of thinking if he explained himself thoroughly. It was enough for him to let his hurt go.

“Listen...”

Michael looked up, letting his hand fall gripping Brian’s fingers pointing in the air.

Brian was pointing at a speaker in the ceiling. “Turn it up, Michael.”

Michael complied, heading toward the volume control on the wall to the music, near the light switches. “How’s that?”

“Good. Now... come back here... I wanna dance.” Brian was finding his strength again.

“Brian... wait... no... I...” Michael tried to hurry over in time to assist Brian.

“Shut up, Mikey. I’ll let you lead.” Brian managed to stand on his own, holding his arms open... looking like somebody had kicked him while he was down on the ground. He was pale, disheveled and horny enough to suffice with just holding Michael in his arms. He set his I.V. pole a good distance so he wouldn’t trip over the wheels.

Michael wouldn’t have taken him any other way. He walked right into Brian’s arms. He felt the grip secure about his waist, felt the dip of Brian’s head to rest in the curve of his shoulder and neck. He felt the way Brian was easily giving himself up into his embrace. Brian was letting him lead their dance.

Michael hooked his thumbs on the loops of Brian's jeans, drawing them down. He held on as best he could, knowing even though Brian always claimed he was the stronger of the two... Michael liked it when Brian showed a bit of macho-ness and took over.

Michael started by shifting his feet, swaying their hips from side-to side. “Ah... now I recognize this one. Uncle Vic loved to play him.”

“Louie... Louie...” Brian made his voice sound like how Louis Armstrong sang. He reached both his hands up to grip the nape of Michael’s neck, tilting his head enough so he could swoop down and plant a kiss on his lips, delicately. He didn’t want to increase his heart rate by too much again. His mouth on Michael’s, barely touching at times. “I love you... and... I am sorry.”

Against Brian’s mouth, Michael smiled. “Forgiven.”

Brian smiled in return, swinging Michael around in a silly flourish, wanting to hear him giggle like a little boy with happiness.

They danced until they both got lost in the music and the lyrics... forgetting that in another ten minutes the nurse, Leslie, would come check on Brian.

Brian and Michael were famous for that... losing sight of reality whenever they were in each other’s arms... and that was the sweetest perfection of all...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
 ** **You Go To My Head**** _By Louie Armstrong_  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
 ** _ **You go to my head  
And you linger like a haunting refrain  
And I find you spinning 'round in my brain  
Like the bubbles in a glass of champagne**_**

 **_You go to my head  
Like a sip of sparkling burgundy brew_ ** _**  
** _ **_**And I find the very mention of you  
Like the kicker in a julep or two** _ **

**_The thrill of the thought  
That you might give a thought to my plea  
Casts a spell over me_ **

**_Still I say to myself  
"Get a hold of yourself,  
Can't you see that it never can be"_ **

**_You go to my head  
With a smile that makes my temperature rise  
Like a summer with a thousand Julys  
You intoxicate my soul with your eyes_ **

**_Though I'm certain that this heart of mine  
Hasn't a ghost of a chance  
In this crazy romance_ **

**_You go to my head  
You go to my head  
You go to my head_ **   
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**~*~*~*~*~THE END**


End file.
